


A happy family is but an earlier heaven yet love is the future divine

by Bramblecottage



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 72,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6150317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bramblecottage/pseuds/Bramblecottage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its winter in Poplar and Delia joins Patsy for a week away in the country where she finds out more about her reserved love. Family, secrets and liberty reveal the depths of Patience Mount that Delia is only too happy to experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Call the Midwife or any of its fantastic characters. Call the Midwife is the property of BBC, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

It was an easy winter’s day when the roar of an engine, majestic and tuned, broke the nippy Poplar air. Midwife Trixie Franklin was cycling back to breakfast at Nonnatus House following an arduous yet rewarding delivery when a silver blue sports car eased to a halt outside the imposing stone exterior of the convent. Trixie eagerly observed a rather dashing, well-groomed man literally leap from the driver’s seat carrying an ostentatious bunch of cut flowers. Fixing her finest flirty smile firmly in place Trixie offered her assistance to the tall, dark and handsome stranger. 

“I’m here for Nurse Mount.” He said with a happy ease and plummy charm as he took in the clean yet humble cobbled street “could I trouble you to relay that Samuel has arrived early and is eager to see her?” 

Trixie was momentarily stunned by the cool charm of Patsy Mounts supposed suitor before recovering and showing the man into the drawing room.  
As Samuel stood in front of the flickering open fire he looked around the humble yet comfortable furnishings of Nonnatus House, eying the religious symbols with almost fearful curiosity.

Upstairs, Trixie entered her shared bedroom, perched on the edge of her own bed, crossed her legs, and then lent back on her arms with a grin. “Well aren’t you the dark horse” she smiled as she looked upon her reserved friend who casually was sat reading a medical text. “What appears to be a very smitten chap by the name of Samuel is here to see you. I just knew you were hiding a gentleman friend, all the tell-tale signs of love…”

“Samuel is here now?” Patsy interrupted excitedly before jumping up, tossing her book to the bed and dashing from the room. Trixie followed close behind keen to see an interaction that obviously bought her friend so much joy.

Trixie witnessed the tall and elegant Patsy leap into the arms of Samuel who spun her before holding her at arm’s length and looking upon her soft pretty features with adoration. “I’ve missed you Squirt” he laughed before embracing Patsy once more. “Tell me you’ve not changed your mind about coming to Boreton this week?”  
Trixie cleared her throat from the doorway, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Can I offer you both some Tea?” she asked innocently still watching the smallest affectionate interaction between the pair. 

Samuel, still holding on to Patsy’s hand looked to Trixie “thank you for your kind offer however my driver will be hear shortly and I must return to my office if I want a week’s grace for a trip to the country.” Arm in arm Patsy and Samuel walked towards the large front door of Nannatas House as Samuel placed a small bunch of keys into Patsy’s elegant hand. “As promised…” he said as he kissed her cheek and opened the large oak door to the winter chill. Patsy saw the shining blue Rolls Royce parked neatly outside, an immaculate chauffeur waiting patiently. Samuel looked back and blew an air kiss at Patsy as he stepped into the Limousine. Patsy waved as she looked around the small patch of cobbled street on which they were stood. The only car out of place, with the exception of the grand Roller which was slowly pulling away was a silver blue Aston Martin DB4. Looking at the keys in her hand Patsy saw the small winged emblem on the key fob. “I said sensible” she shouted before schooling her reaction and glancing about her once more. The Rolls continued down the small street and out of view without any hesitation. 

Patsy looked down at her watch. “Drat” she muttered before shoving the keys deep into her pocket and retrieving her coat. “Do fill me in Patsy old thing. Who was the dish?” Trixie enquired still shocked by the day’s turn of events involving the immensely personal Patsy Mount. Wrapping her coat tightly about her Patsy apologised for rushing off and walked out into the increasingly bitter cold towards Whittle Street. 

It was there on the corner of Whittle Street the red headed nurse stepped into a phone box, ‘their phone box’, and allowed the door to swing shut effectively blocking out the biting cold air. Placing a coin in the receptacle Patsy dialled the number she knew by heart and waited for the call to connect. The coin dropped as the line came alive with a Welsh greeting “Ward Nine Nurses Station, Sister Busby speaking”. 

“Deels, it’s me. Can you speak?” 

Delia Busby looked up and down the corridor, clutching the heavy black phone to her ear. “Well Nurse Mount, it’s very nice to hear from you”

“Listen Deels, tomorrow I will pick you up at midday. I have an errand to run then I will be waiting outside Nonnatus House. That is if you haven’t changed your mind?”  
Delia laughed “You met my mam briefly, I think it only fair to meet your family. I’m on shift until 6am so I will get some sleep before our trip”. Patsy smiled to herself despite the rising feeling of deceit and fear bubbling from within. 

“Wonderful. I will see you then”.

“See you Pats”

And the receiver went dead. Patsy pushed the heavy red door open and slowly made her way back to the warmth and comfort of Nonnatus House. Tomorrow would be an eventful day, however she was sure it would be all fine in the end. She needed to do this.


	2. Chapter 2

Patsy gripped the thin Walnut Wood rimmed steering wheel and looked around the small cabin of the motorcar. Space was limited which she supposed was a calculated choice by Samuel. Seeing Delia emerge down the Nonnatus House steps Patsy quickly climbed out of the car to relieve the smaller woman of the apparently heavy suitcase. “Thank you” Delia purred as Patsy held eye contact for a few more seconds than would generally be socially acceptable before she went to add the brown leather case to the luggage and packages already filling the surprisingly generous boot space. Delia ran her hand along the car as she made her way to the passenger door, only for Patsy to dart around her and open the door in a most chivalrous fashion. Delia placed her hand on Patsy’s as she lowered herself into the leather seat, the door delicately being closed behind her. Patsy took a deep breath, glanced around her surroundings which was her habit when with Delia, and made her way to the driver’s side. In silence Patsy powered up the engine which Delia observed sounded exceptionally smooth yet powerful and they made their way through the familiar Poplar streets. The car drew attention but Patsy hoped with the glare of the low winter sun nobody would recognise them. The journey through the centre of London remained comfortably silent until they reached the newly built motorway connecting London with Birmingham. Delia rested her hand over Patsy’s as it lay on the polished wood gear shift and watched the houses and towering buildings turn to green pastures and rolling hills. 

“So…” It sounded like a the softest welsh hymn Patsy thought as she looked at the beautiful Brunette by her side before returning her eyes to the road ahead. “Are you going to tell me how you got your hands on this car?”.

Patsy’s brow furrowed as she worried her lip unsure of how to answer and if she really wanted to answer anyway. “How about you find some music?” 

Delia busied herself delicately turning the silver radio tuner knobs. “Will you at least tell me why you are so tense? We both have a week off from work, we will be spending that time together. I for one couldn’t be happier.”

Patsy turned her hand from the gear shift so she could hold Delia’s hand. Rubbing her thumb softly over the soft skin “I couldn’t be happier either. Look there is an old inn in a mile or so that serves a rather good lunch. Will we stop there and I can tell you of my many fears?” the small smile that swept across Patsy’s features with those words quelled the unease that had previously settled in Delia. 

The old coaching inn was quiet with just three other couples huddled around small tables and two old locals sat at the bar slowly sipping on amber pints. Delia made a bee line for a small round table located in a cosy nook near a large smouldering fire. Their easy company was always a blessing and they ordered their lunch and slipped into relaxed conversation. 

As the elderly waitress placed their meals down and departed Delia once again attempted to coax Patsy. “We really are travelling in style. How have you got your hands on that motorcar? I’ve only ever seen something like it at the pictures”.

“Well, that’s easy to answer. I asked Samuel to organise a motorcar for me so I could drive you this week”.

“Umm, easy indeed! And just who is Samuel?” there was teasing in Delia’s voice.

“Well that is in some ways a much longer story.” Patsy was quiet for a moment as she leaded a small piece of salmon to her fork. 

“Will I meet this elusive Samuel?” Delia asked somewhat perplexed by Patsy’s demeanour. 

“Yes. And I can’t wait to introduce you darling. Samuel is my cousin whom I adore. He is also… well I’ll explain more when we get there” Patsy said with wide eyes and they both laughed at her mysterious tone. “My aunt is also very keen to make your acquaintance”

“Is that so… and what have you told your aunt that makes her eager to meet me?”

Patsy looked about, softly took Delia’s hand and leaned forward. “Let me see. I told her you were an angel, my safety, the wittiest, most charming…”

Delia laughed. “Really? Oh Pats even if we could talk like that I know you wouldn’t! Not to anyone but me”

“Well let’s just say she has her suspicions, but we are quite safe at Boreton. Deels I have so much to tell you and I don’t know where to start, and I do hope you won’t be to angry” 

“Why would I be angry Pats?”

“I love you Deels, please just remember that”

“Oh Pats… let’s just get there shall we. I’m sure your worrying for nothing”.

\--

The Aston Martin turned slowly off the road around three in the afternoon, turning between two large gates and a small cottage sitting sentry. “Welcome to Boreton” Patsy said as they made their way down the winding drive lined with tall trees and parkland stretching out both sides. Delia grinned as she took in the rather grand approach. As the car crested over a peak on the drive the house came into view and took Delia’s breath away. 

Boreton Hall was a spectacular sight, a fine example of a Queen Anne mansion house set in exquisite parkland. The house was built of brick on a sandstone plinth with a balustraded entrance front of fifteen bays, the central three of which were pedimented. 

“Pats, it’s beautiful. I didn’t imagine such a place”

“It’s been in the family for generations but don’t let the old place intimidate”

The drive turned to gravel under the tyres and the engine idled as Patsy parked directly outside the imposing front door.  
“Ready?” she asked with a smile

“I am if you are” Delia replied lifting Patsy’s hand to softly kiss her knuckles. Patsy smiled before looking through the window at the beautiful house.


	3. Chapter 3

Patsy pulled on the chain by the door ringing the bell, then stepped back to stand should to shoulder with Delia. 

The large blue front door opened to reveal an immaculately dressed older gentleman, a perfectly tailored black suit and black long tie. His greyed hair was styled despite balding and his eyes twinkled with joy at seeing the arrivals. “Miss Patience. Allow me to express my deep pleasure at seeing you look so well and happy. And Miss Busby I presume?”

“Hello Mr Morris. It’s very good to see you. Delia, this is Mr Morris. Valet to my uncle and family saviour. Mr Morris, my particular friend Miss Delia Busby”.

When the pleasantries were compete and Patsy reassured the car and luggage would be taken care of the couple found themselves standing in a large foyer alone. I vast chandelier hung over the sweeping staircase that wrapped around to the first floor. Oil landscape paintings and portraits filled the walls and yet the dramatic tiled floor made the room feel imposing yet elegant. Patsy took Delia’s hand. “Shall we find my aunt?” she smiled as a calming relief wrapped around her being back at the only place, with the exception of Nonnatus House, that had felt like home since tragically losing her mother and sister. 

“Patience?” Came the questioning voice from above. Delia moved to release Patsy’s hand but was given a reassuring squeeze before Patsy released her hand and walked towards the foot of the stairs. As an elegant lady in fitted riding slacks, knee high tan riding boots and a tweed jacket walked down the formal stairs Patsy’s face lit up. “Aunt Liz.”

Elizabeth Whitaker was the epitome of grace. An intelligent woman in her early 50s who, along with her husband and children, had welcomed Patsy into their home and lives with open arms and open hearts when she returned broken from the internment Camp. Elizabeth, or Liz was Patience Mount’s paternal aunt. She had come from the illustrious Mount family of Boreton before marrying a gentleman farmer, Charles, when she was 20. When Patsy’s parents had relocated to Singapore her father had left the family estate in the capable hands of his beloved sister and her husband. 

“Patience sweetie, look at you. You look simply glowing. I’m so pleased your home”. The two women embraced and Delia couldn’t help the relief sweep over her that Patsy had even more love in her life than she ever realised. Seeing Patsy’s companion standing a few feet behind them looking happy yet nervous Liz pulled reluctantly away from the embrace with her niece and with a smile approached Delia. “Patience are you going to formally introduce me to Miss Busby here or are common civilities so very different in Poplar?” 

Patsy laughed “Aunt Liz, allow me the honour of introducing Miss Delia Busby. Deels this is my aunt Mrs Elizabeth Whitaker.”

Liz shook Delia’s hand before holding the young Welsh girls fingers between her two hands. “I’m so very pleased to finally meet you Delia. From Patience correspondence I feel that I know you already and that we are set to be firm friends”.

Delia smiled. “The pleasure is all mine Mrs Whitaker” she said as she looked quizzically at Patsy who until now had always remained quiet on the subject of family.

“Call me Liz. Now, I have arranged for Delia to have the room next to yours and the interconnecting door has been unlocked for your convenience. I have instructed the staff that neither of you will require any attendance, nor that your rooms are not to be entered under any circumstance for the duration of your stay. You can put your nursing skills to good use and make your own bed... we wouldn’t want you getting out of practice”

“Thank you” Patsy replied in a small shy voice. 

“Patience, your home. I’m so excited to learn all about your life but for now I will let you both settle in from your drive while I run an errand”. Liz looked briefly at her wrist watch. “Drinks at seven this evening girls and then a kitchen supper.” With a sharp whistle from Liz a black Labrador bounded through the house and followed Liz out through the front door. 

As Patsy’s aunt disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived Delia turned to look upon Patsy with questioning eyes. Patsy briefly bit her bottom lip before taking Delia by the hand. “Quick guided tour I think then Morris should have had our luggage delivered to our suite. Follow me Nurse Busby, you will not want to get lost.” 

Patsy led an inquisitive and fascinated Delia around the main rooms of the grand house, regaling her with the long history of their family home and some personal accounts of teenage adventures and shenanigans. The furnishings in every room were opulent yet comfortable and homely, modern conveniences had been added throughout the house leaving a feeling that it was a home full of life. 

“And this will be your room for your stay” Patsy opened the door on the second floor, entering a large room with a magnificent looking sleigh bed dominating the space. The furnishings had a strong nod to Asia with silks and patterns tastefully adorning the walls and furniture. Delia’s bag had been placed on a small stand. Two large sash windows were a vision of the distant setting sun while the white painted shutters framed the view out over darkening terraces and a twinkling lake. Delia looked about the room, in awe of the colour and textures. The room felt so exotic yet homely in a way Delia couldn’t find word for. She would want to write to her own family and tell them of this beautiful place she had the fortune to visit be she was sure she would never have the words to do it justice. 

Patsy slipped her hand into Delia’s. “I hope you like it” she said and kissed Delia lightly before the shorter woman could reply. “The sitting room has been converted to an en suite with bath and lavatory – just through that door just there. And through here is my room…” Pasty led Delia into the room that was very similarly decorated to the last yet as Delia slowly wandered around she could see small discrete personal touches that were so very Patsy in there element. A selection of medical texts, anthropology editions and regency novels sat neatly in the tall bookcase which had a fencing foil and mask propped against; a record player with a number of LPs in perfect order had its own small table; various framed pictures of school teams and Patsy at graduation where on the wall besides the wardrobe; the most exquisite writing desk with fine pens and expensive looking paper sat under one window with two cameras including a leather cased polaroid next to the writing ink; and finally a picture of Patsy and Delia at a picnic in Hyde park they had attended with several other nursing students when their relationship first bloomed. Delia walked over to the picture that was in a beautifully ornate frame on the fire mantelpiece as she ran her thumb over the polished glass. She hadn’t expected any evidence of their life here. She moved on from the picture and continued around the room before returning to Patsy who stood at the foot of her bed. 

“I quite like seeing where the younger you resided. It feels like you somehow” came Delia’s welsh melody. 

“umm” came Patsy’s reply as she stood behind Delia wrapping her arms about her small frame. With her chin on Delia’s shoulder Patsy closed her eyes softly and inhaled. “My mother decorated these rooms when I was three. She brought me back to England with her when she was too give birth to Antonia. It was a difficult confinement so we returned to England for well over a year. I was nearly five when we returned to father in Singapore. Of course there has been some changes over the year but my aunt and I agreed to maintain what we could of my mother’s decor…”

“They are beautiful rooms Pats” Delia said as she turned in Patsy’s arms to face her love. She kissed her taller loves lips softly, running her hand and thumb over the pale skin of Patsy’s cheek and neck. The two looked at each other, revelling in the safety of each other’s arms and the rarity of enjoying this simple act without being vigilant of intruders or spectators. “Will we really not be disturbed Pats?” Delia asked as she glanced at the door over Patsy’s shoulder. “I can’t say the family understand boundaries because sometimes they are scandalous in their approach to gossip! However, in these rooms we will be left to our own devices!” Patsy’s face showed wide eyes as she spoke with a conspiratory smirk which turned into a yawn and an apology. 

Delia suggested a nap before dinner, grateful for a chance to gather herself before the intimidating prospect of joining Patsy’s family for their evening meal. As Patsy walked to the right side of the bed Delia lowered herself onto the left side. As Delia sank into the plush layers of sheets and luxurious mattress she couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan. “I know” came Patsy’s response also revelling in the heavenly comfort. They both quickly slipped into a restful sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, a simple blanket pulled up over their clothes as the room glided into full darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

The dinner gong sounded loud through the great house and Patsy sat up looking about the dark room. “What was that Cariad?” Delia asked rubbing her eyes from the nap that had in fact been a deeply restful sleep. “That was a reminder for dinner” Patsy said as she padded over to a light switch and illuminated the room. Delia squinted at the light before sliding out of the divine bed and set about brushing her hair at Patsy’s dressing table. 

Delia brushed and tweaked her hair and straightened her clothing with a frown. “Do I look ok Pats?”

“You look beautiful Deels, now come on Liz doesn’t like it when people are late for drinks”. Delia followed on as her nerves continued to rise steeply. 

“Patsy, Delia. Gin?” Liz asked as she sipped from her own tall glass as she lounged with a magazine in a comfortable looking a armchair.

“God yes please” Patsy replied as she lit a cigarette and sat on a cream linen sofa patting the seat next to herself for Delia. “Deels?”

“That would be lovely thank you”

“Charles?” Liz shouted over her shoulder “Patsy and Delia are down for drinks”

“What? Oh, Patience. Its jolly good to see you” bellowed a deep voice from a very tall man with a kind face and a bushy ginger moustache as he walked into the room. Patsy stood and kissed her uncle on the cheek in greeting. “Uncle Charles, it’s very good to see you” she said somewhat loudy. “Allow me to introduce my dear friend Miss Delia Busby”. Delia stood and accepted the tall man’s hand. 

“It’s very good to meet you Miss Busby. You are very welcome indeed. Now Gin?” Charles asked

“Yes please” both women replied 

“Right’o” came the roaring response. 

“I’m sorry about my husband’s volume. Too many years of shooting have left him practically deaf” Liz said as she smiled over the pages of her magazine. 

“Except to the sound of racing commentary on the wireless” Patsy interjected drawing a laugh from her aunt. “Quite”.

“I’m from a loud family myself” Delia said with a smile “but none of us are hard of hearing so we have no excuse”. 

Liz placed her magazine on the arm of the chair and looked at the two women sat closely on the sofa. She had not fully taken in Delia’s appearance when they first met in the entrance hall but now, she could see the twinkle in the girls’ eyes and the comfort she obviously brought Patsy. She couldn’t be happier. “Now I’m quite sure Patience has plenty of plans for the two of you while you are here and away from the prying eyes of Poplar, however I have a few things planned myself if Patsy will share you Delia. Samuel is due to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Bertie will arrive at sometime but you know how hard he is to pin down on times. Ella can't make it this week as she is off on a Spanish language course in Valencia. Samuel telephoned earlier to say there was a small matter that required his attention in Liverpool and then he will drive here directly. Your father…”

“Ultrasonics for the ladies” Charles interrupted as he walked into the room and offered a small tray with two glasses to Patsy and Delia. “Now you’ll have to excuse me, sergeant Jones has just called to say he has arrested the three young Tibberton boy for poaching so I’m going down to the police house to sort the bloody mess out. They’re welcome to a sodding pheasant or two but keeping a man from his supper is quite unforgivable” the loud muttering left the room and Liz said nothing in reply. 

Patsy sipped her drink while seeking Delia’s hand with her own and interlocking their fingers. “You mentioned my father Liz?”

“Yes. I spoke with him a week ago and he said he would visit while you were here. He is keen to meet Miss Busby too. He didn’t say exactly when he would arrive but he sounded very positive.”

Patsy nodded at the news unsure whether to allow her excitement of seeing her father to outweigh the trepidation of what memories and emotions he unwittingly stirs. She loved her father dearly and she hated watching the once vivacious man torment himself over the heartbreak of losing her mother and sister. He had blamed himself and had withdrawn in a way from life, preferring to reside in a remote house in the north taking in no visitors and undertaking no business dealings. He simply researched the Japanese invasion of Singapore, the subsequent surrender and the occupation. Patsy was unsure if he was in search of someone specifically to blame for not protecting the residents of the British colony, if he was looking for developments he himself had missed or if it was simply a way of being closer to her mother and Annie. She knew deep down there was very little she could do to disappoint her father herself. He wanted only for her happiness. He did believe that she should live in more fitting accommodation and he voiced his opinion freely but he understood why she felt the call to nurse. He suspected it was motivated similarly to his own desire to research the Japanese invasion and modern politics in South East Asia. But her father being here with them would force her to face more of her past than she had hoped to on this trip. “Well I should look forward to introducing you to him Deels.” 

Supper was a relatively simple affair with the three ladies sat around a large farmhouse style kitchen table. The fish Pie was delicious and the delicate difference in the flavours to the food in London was also most welcome to Delia who actively missed fresh country produce. They chatted over the meal and later into the evening. Liz questioned Delia on her career and family and regaling her new Welsh friend with stories of Patsy as a youth. They laughed and reminisced and Delia felt slightly overwhelmed by this open-minded yet noble lady. As they finally decided to call it a night Patsy excused herself to gather two glasses of water. Liz kissed Delia’s cheek “You are so very welcome here Delia. I’ve not seen Patience so happy in a very long time. Thank you.” Delia was taken aback as she blushed. “Thank you for having me to stay in your beautiful home”. 

Entering her former bedroom the redhead placed the glasses of water on the side table. “Will you stay in here with me?” She asked shyly. 

Delia kissed Patsy softly “always” she smiled “Now you use the bathroom first while I unpack.”

Over half an hour later Delia padded back into Patsy’s bedroom closing the door behind her. She walked over to ‘her side’ of the bed taking in the vision of Patsy sat up in a green silk slip, knees pulled up under the covers and thumbing through a novel. “Your aunt is lovely Pats” she said as she climbed into the blissful bed.  
“She is, and she has taken an extraordinary liking to you. Not that anyone adoring you is unexpected Deels but my aunt doesn’t trust easily.” 

Delia turned to face Patsy as her hand ran along the sheets that lay between their two bodies “I'm not sure I fit in such a beautiful home though, and dinner was really something. And with Champagne! We wouldn't have that even for Christmas back at home.”

“It was just a fish pie Deels.”

“And that lemon pudding? I don’t think I’ve ever had Champagne before except at my cousins wedding and I’m not entirely sure that was real after what I tasted tonight.”

Patsy smiled as she placed her book down and reached forward to move some loose strands of hair away from Delia’s face. “You know what I mean though Pats - your aunt and uncle are lovely but being here already feels like another world.” 

“A world that bothers you?” Patsy questioned with hesitancy. 

“Not bothers me so much. Some people have money and some people live hand to mouth. I just don't see why they are so happy to meet me. Delia Busby. Darpers daughter from Pembrokeshire. I must be an interesting sociological study for them. I’ve never been anywhere except London and Swansea… I can’t be of any interest for people like them.”

Patsy sat stunned for a moment.

“I never thought you could feel that way. It never occurred to me...”

“And why would it Cariad? You and I work, we earn, we live! Questions of riches don't really come into reason in Poplar just as they don't really in Pembrokeshire.”

“And our equal standing means what to you exactly?” There was a cutting tone to Patsy’s voice although she tried to bite back the emotion laced behind.

“It means I'm your equal. It means we can forge our way through the world... Side by side... Full of love. With the exception of both having very different backgrounds and accents we are in the same place.”

“But you deserve so much Deels”

“I deserve no more than anyone else. I don't need anything... I have you.”

Patsy nodded silently as a heavy feeling wrapped around her stomach. “We should sleep. Tomorrow will be an eventful day I'm sure!” And with that Delia drew Patsy into her arms as she quickly drifted off to sleep. Sleep that would not come quite so easily to Patsy.


	5. Chapter 5

Delia awoke to warming rays of winter sun streaming through the windows. She rolled over to find herself quite alone in the large bed but with a neatly folded note laying on Patsy’s pillow. 

My Darling D. I woke early and you looked so content murmuring in Welsh, I left you to your dreams. I have gone downstairs in search of coffee. Come and find me when you are ready. Dress warmly my love. Entirely yours, P xx

After completing her morning rituals and picking out a warm outfit for the day Delia set off to locate Patsy. Walking down the grand staircase Delia looked more closely at the paintings adorning the walls. Small wooden nameplates introduced the Mount ancestors, the surreal feeling of otherworldliness swelling as Delia explored. Lady Isabella Mount, 1812; Sir Harvey Fortitude Mount, 1810; Circe Rollo Mount, 1886… The paintings were vast in size and plentiful in number. Men in Regency tails, Ladies in silk gowns with fans, military officers. The colours and faces came alive in such a way that Delia found herself smiling at familial traits she could see in her own love. 

As Delia walked past even more impressive paintings she could hear Patsy’s voice drifting towards her. She couldn’t help herself as she slowed her step and listened. 

“I should have told her sooner.”

“You know as well as I do Patience that doing that can lead to considerably more trouble than omitting a few truths until a person is truly known.” Liz’s voice was full of compassion as she spoke with her niece. 

“I want her to be part of the review?” 

“I think that is a lovely idea. You’ll know when the time is right sweetheart and Delia is a lovely girl. She will understand”. 

Delia found herself feeling guilty for eavesdropping yet deeply curious. She stood for several long seconds before approaching the dining room. “Good morning” Delia all but sang as she walked into the dining room smiling at Patsy who looked mischievous with her pigtails and a patterned knit jumper. Patsy immediately looked up from the newspaper and smiled at Delia who was dressed in her warmest wool plaid skirt and cardigan. Patsy pulled out the chair next to her own in invitation and Delia happily accepted the seat. 

“Did you sleep well? You looked so beautifully angelic I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.” 

Liz raised an eyebrow at her niece, who in turn blushed at her own words. Delia missed the unspoken interaction as she helped herself to the coffee pot and milk. 

The three women continued to chat throughout their breakfast.

An hour and plenty of conversation later Patsy held Delia’s coat and gloves. The smaller woman slipped her arms through the offered sleeves. Patsy pulled Delia forward by her lapels with a smile and kissed her inviting lips as she pulled the coats large top button through its hole. “Ready?”

“I’ve no idea what for but I am game!” 

Arm in arm and giggling the pair strode out of the house. Patsy led Delia through a small arch at the side of the house that linked with a pretty herb garden. Onwards they walked under a clock tower until they found themselves in a courtyard full of half open stables. Horses heads peeking at their newest visitors and blowing and snorting in approval charmed Delia.

An elderly gent with a full grey beard wearing dark tweed breeches, tweed jacket and deer stalker stood holding the halter of a chestnut pony, which in turn was harnessed up to a trap. 

“Miss Patience, It’s very nice to see you again”

“Mr Rigby. You’re looking very well. I hope Mrs Rigby has made a full recovery?”

“Oh yes miss.” 

Delia walked to the head of the pony and stroked its muzzle whispering calmly to the animal. The pony pushed her head lovingly at Delia who giggled at its antics. 

“Patty has taken a liking to your friend Miss Patience”

Patsy laughed at the sight. “It appears so Mr Rigby, it appears so.”

Patsy stepped up onto the trap and took her seat, gathering the reins and adjusting her foot position. “Deels, your carriage awaits!” 

With a grin Delia walked to the trap where Mr Rigby held her hand as she climbed aboard. As she sat Patsy pulled a tartan rug over their knees. “Ready?” 

Delia smiled widely and nodded as Patsy clicked her tongue and cracked the reins. “Walk on Patty.” The Pony easily walked down the track away from the house and stables and up a small incline between trees and hedges. Delia hooked her arm through Patsy’s. “Trot on Patty” Patsy said with gusto and the trap jerked. The jolt and change of speed drawing another deep laugh from Delia and Patsy. 

“Patty is an interesting name. Is she named for someone specific?” Delia asked with a knowing look.

“Very shrewd Deels. It’s one of Liz’s little jokes”

“And how did you come to have a pony named after you?”

“Patty here was a particularly spirited foal. She wouldn’t break in even for Jack, Mr Rigbys son. In fact she was quite nippy to all men. She prefers the company of women!”

Delia laughed cuddling in closer to Patsy. “Well I think she’s wonderful.” They continued on up the remote track in the biting cold forgotten as they chatted and laughed. “It’s nice being able to cwtch you in the open.”

“I’ve not heard you say cwtch for an age”

“Well we don’t get an awful lot of chances do we?”

Patsy steered Patty to their destination coming to a halt beside a handsome building built in the Gothic Style on top of the hill. There was a fine prospect of all the countryside for several miles around and Boreton Hall was standing majestically in the frosty landscape below. The strange octagonal lime washed white tower was used as an occasional summer house for the Mount family and as a shelter from inclement weather on days such as these. Patsy secured Patty and opened the door to the tower. Inside the windows showed the beautiful vistas. The décor was simple with scrub wood floorboards, a sofa and two chairs. Central to the room was a wood burning stove and a wicker basket which stood full of logs. Closing the door behind them Patsy directed Delia to a flask of hot tea, that she had previously had sent up, and set about laying a fire. 

Relaxing on the comfortable sofa in front of the fire with a cup of tea each Patsy curled her legs up under herself and twisted slightly to face Delia. “Deels, I’ve brought you up here to talk. But now I feel although I have somewhat trapped my darling!”

Delia shook her head. “Pats. I know something is bothering you.”

Patsy looked at her cup, a few bubbles moved slowly atop the tea. “I used to come up here when I was staying at Boreton. School holidays, Christmas. I’ve always been treated so well by Liz and Charles, by them all, but they feel like a different sort of family. A family I’m a part of yet also apart from.”

Delia placed her hand n Patsy’s arm urging her to continue. She knew Patsy has shared more with her about growing up in Singapore and the internment camp than anyone else but she also knew there was considerably more that Patsy withheld. It had never troubled her as such, knowing that Patsy loved her and that she would open more and more, as and when the time was right, but now sat here her mind was running a mock. 

“Your family love you Pats. That is very clear.” She paused looking around this refuge. “This is a beautiful sanctuary.”

“My relationship with my family is complex but I concur they do love me and I them.” Patsy pulled a cigarette out of a packet and struck a match to light it. Taking a long draw she stared at the glowing ember. “I’m not dishonest by nature.”

“Oh, my darling sweet Pats, I know that.”

“But I have been dishonest and now I don’t know where to start Deels.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready too.”

“I’ve been ready for a very long time. Before the flat. Before the accident.”

“My Tadcu used to say to start a beautiful dance you need an offer of a hand and a partner whose soul you adore. It sounds more poetic in Welsh but you get the idea. Start at the beginning Cariad. I’m with you no matter what.”

Patsy nodded and slowly started to speak. “As you now I was born in Singapore. My father moved out with my mother shortly after their marriage because he was ambitious to expand the family business. You see my Great Grandfather Circe founded a shipping company along with a commodity trading enterprise. He made many risky investments but by all accounts he was a lucky old rogue. My father and uncle Robert were both very good businessman and the company grew considerably. Along with it came several complexities.”

“Patsy, if you’re trying to tell me you are from a well off family that much was clear as soon as we arrived here!”

Patsy laughed before becoming serious once more. “Yes, but Deels it’s a little more than that I’m afraid.”

“Your family”

“No.” Delia looked puzzled as Patsy stubbed out her cigarette. “God, I’m making rather a mess of this.” 

“So we come from worlds even further apart than we thought. That doesn’t change who we are now Cariad. It doesn’t change our life together.”

Patsy chewed her lip unsure how to continue. Delia scooted towards Patsy and placed a hand on each side of her face. Smiling she lent in to capture Patsy’s full lips, her hands slipping down over proud shoulders, breasts until they came to rest on her small waist. The trajectory of Delia’s hands caused an involuntary gasp which in turn spurred on an intensified kiss. 

Moving away from Patsy’s lips by barely a fraction Delia rubbed her nose against Patsy’s as they held their gaze. Delia’s eyes wondered momentarily. “What’s that noise Pats?” Delia asked as a distant humming became more and more distinct. Patsy untangled herself from her love, stood and walked to the door and looked out at a small aircraft some way off. “It’s an aeroplane and it’s upsetting Patty I think… the poor old thing. Let’s make our way back down before we are stuck here with an obstreperous pony.” 

Delia walked to face Patsy “Or, we could stay here and continue what we started? This place is almost too good to be true.”

Patsy felt awash with emotion. She had a life full of regrets. Regrets from her childhood with her mother and sisters; regret from her school days from which she continued to punish herself; regrets of all that she kept from Delia; and regrets that given the one night of blissful privacy in their poplar flat, they hadn’t overcome their fatigue and propriety to embrace the next level of intimacy. Yet she felt the burden of her deceptions weighed increasingly heavy and her mind was becoming a mist of frustration at her own lack of eloquence and fear. Delia watched as unfamiliar emotions flashed across Patsy’s features and felt her own stomach drop. She didn’t know what she could do so with a soft chaste kiss she turned to place a guard in front of the fire and gathered her coat. 

Patty pulled the cart slowly and carefully down the hill, the driver and passenger silent in their musings. Delia could feel the emotion flowing from her partner and felt a loss as to how to ease her suffering. Unaccustomed to letting any soul suffer, and especially Patsy, Delia lent her weight against Patsy and wrapped her arms about the stoic woman. “You know when I first saw you, that first day in the nurse’s home. You were returning from your shift and I was moving in… I thought well she’s a bit of alright.” Patsy laughed and looked at Delia’s smiling face. “I didn’t know anything about you but I wanted to. And you’ve not disappointed yet Patience Mount.” 

The women arrived back at the house and handed Patty back to a groom. “Would you go ahead of me Delia I need a few moments. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I’m sure there are some afternoon cakes. Maybe you could make a pot of tea?”

Delia nodded and held back a tear. She felt Patsy pulling away from her but she didn’t know what to try next. She watched as the tall woman walked away, hands in pocket and head down. She hoped more than expected that space and a moment’s solitude would help.


	6. Chapter 6

Delia filled the heavy kettle and placed it on the Aga plate. Pulling out a kitchen chair she sat and started flicking mindlessly through a fashion magazine that lay open on the table. 

“Oh, Hello there” came a deep male voice causing Delia to look up. A tall man in his early thirties with immaculate hair and wearing a smart beige suit strode in. “A beautiful yet mysterious stranger sat at my mother’s kitchen table – what a fine surprise. I could deduce that you are a lady friend of my brother Bertie’s but I think not. I’m Samuel Whitaker” the man held his hand out in greeting.

“Delia Busby and you’re correct, I don’t recall ever meeting a Bertie in my entire life.”

“A Welsh angel in our midst. I can say in all earnestness I could listen to you speak for an eternity.” 

Patsy stood at the door watching the interaction with a soft smile. “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter!” Patsy said as she made a beeline for Delia and brazenly kissed her love on the mouth right there in the kitchen.

“Keats whilst sober? Really Squirt? You are sober I suppose?” Samuel said jokingly. Patsy embraced him in a warm hug and tucking her head briefly under his chin and against his chest. The embrace was full of comfort and unity. Samuel held his large hand to the back of her head and hugged her tight. His ability to know when she needed comfort was something that remained a mystery to Patsy. Delia watched and felt the sorrow of knowing that she was not the one to afford comfort on this occasion. 

Pulling back from the embrace Patsy cleared the lump from her throat. “So I see you two have met.” Samuel placed his arm about Patsy’s shoulders as Delia smiled somewhat puzzled. “We have. Now if you’ll excuse me I have some work to do. I will look forward to catching up properly over a dram of Scotch after supper?” 

“Absolutely” Patsy replied as her cousin retreated. When they were quite alone once more Patsy set about making the tea. 

“Can we take the tea up to our rooms?” Delia asked “I think you need to try getting whatever it is that’s bothering you out again and some privacy may help.”

Delia Sat on Patsy’s bed and sipped her tea patiently as Patsy paced back and forth smoking a cigarette. 

“Most people think having money is a cure all. That it brings one an easy life and happiness.” Delia listened and nodded before Patsy continued. “I’ve never felt that. If it wasn’t for the business my family would never have been in Singapore in the first place. As for the money it couldn’t save my mother and sister, it only put us all in danger.” 

Delia desperately wanted to comfort Patsy but she held her tongue, stayed quiet and waited. 

Patsy laughed almost bitterly. “When I was around 15 a new girl moved to my school. She was slightly older but we hit it off straight away and she was so different from the other girls I was intrigued by her. We became close. Of course lots of the girls experimented. They practiced kissing on each other to be ready for the dances with the boy’s school. But with Catherine it was different. We thought ourselves in love – or at least I thought.... It turned out that she was not in any way head over heels with me but rather using me. She contacted my father and asked for a large sum of money to keep my ‘dirty little secret’. My father enlisted Liz and Charles to help sort out the situation. Fortunately my mother’s uncle was a high court judge and turned the tables on her as it were. It was then I realised for me that money was a greater danger in exposing who I am because there will always be Catherine’s in the world – looking for any opportunity to swindle one out of money.”

“Oh Pats. You poor thing – what an awful girl.” 

“My aunt sat me down and I told her everything. All my feelings and confusion. She was fantastic. I was lost and scared in a different way that I had previously known.” Patsy took another long drag and looked out of the window. “I had always known I wanted to nurse. I’d wanted to since helping in the medical tents at the camp. I wanted to help people. And I needed to be kept busy. For a long time I couldn’t slow down. I couldn’t stop because I didn’t want my terrors to catch up with me. I needed to escape.”

“That makes sense Cariad. But you don’t need to run so fast from the horrors anymore. I’m here right beside you.”

Patsy stubbed her cigarette out and walked to Delia’s side, taking her hands and kissing her palms. “Your right. Because of you my darling I don’t need to run so hard. But I still need constant distractions.” Patsy turned and inspected Delia’s small hands in her own, her focus not leaving the patterns her own fingers were drawing. “There is a little more. My uncle sold his shares to my father before the war because he had great plans of his own in America. The stock price was low as global trade was stalling at the time so that meant my father owned sixty six percent of the stock and my aunt had her original thirty three percent. When father withdrew more and more from business, from me, from life in general he signed fifty one percent of the company shares to me. He thought his health was failing and it was purely financially motivated to avoid certain taxes.” 

“So all this time you were pretending to be living off a nurses wage? You lied all the times we scraped together enough money for a box of chocolates at the pictures or you rejected a new pair of shoes because of the price?” Delia sounded hurt and torn.

“No Deels. I do live off my nurse’s pay. My income from the company is, for now at least, invested to increase and insure a continued revenue supply for the charitable foundation set up in honour of my mother and sister. The foundation has fourteen percent of shares in the business as well as a few other assets which provide an annual income that is distributed to worthwhile causes. I can’t risk anyone in Poplar finding out who I really am. That’s why I was frightfully peeved at Samuel for obtaining that car for me. It draws unnecessary attention. People start asking questions. It won’t do.” 

Patsy continued to explain, growing desperate for Delia to understand that she had wanted to share all this sooner but life, situation and events had prevented it. She wanted Delia to know that this wasn’t something she could just walk away from. It simply wasn’t that easy. She had a responsibility. But Delia did understand. She pulled Patsy into her and let her spill yet more anger at the loss of her mother and sister. She kissed her head and stroked her hair and whispered words of love and comfort. 

When the dinner gong rang they quickly tidied their appearance, dried their tears and joined the other three inhabitants for dinner. 

Dinner passed with warm conversation, Liz questioning Patsy, Delia and Samuel in turn about their respective London accommodation, lives and work. Liz seemed so content to have both Patsy and Samuel sat with her and Delia watched the woman closely. She suspected Liz was more of a guardian angel to her children and niece than any of them realised. 

After Liz and Charles bid a fond goodnight Samuel led Delia and Patsy to a smallish sitting room he referred to as the snug. One large two seater sofa sat facing the fireplace that crackled and flickered. A honey oak coffee table scattered with magazines filled the centre of the room and two arm chairs stood on the flanks. The art on the walls was still plentiful but softer and intermixed with countless family photographs, moments of childhood caught and preserved, pets large and small, and finally pictures of point to pointers mid jump and in the winner’s enclosure. Delia thought that an hour examining the many photos on display in this room would reveal inordinate amounts about the current Whitaker and Mount family. 

Samuel stood by a neat drinks tray and poured three glasses of Glenlivet. He remembered fondly the changes in his cousin when the met at the Berkeley Hotel for Tea every month. The changes happened over several months, years even. He remembered the shy blush the first time Patsy mentioned her new friend from the West; he remembered the increasing references to Delia; he remembered the increasing affection in the details of their time together; and he remembered the look on Patsy’s face when he first asked if she had fallen in love. He remembered giving Patsy a bottle of Glenlivet for her Birthday and Patsy saying she looked forward to sharing it with her girlfriend. It was such a simple statement but he had pulled her into an embrace right there in the Caramel Room. She was less haunted, happier, she smiled more and her occasionally abrasive and defensive tone had softened. He knew this relationship would help save Patsy and he’d been eager to meet the woman responsible ever since. 

Delia sat comfortably on the sofa and watched Patsy as she delicately removed a vinyl LP from its sleeve and placed it on the turn table. The needle of the record player touched down and the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald softly filled the room. Patsy lowered herself to sit on the floor next to Delia, leaning slightly against her legs as she reached for her drink. The three chatted happily sharing stories. Samuel could see so clearly that Delia was perfect for his beloved cousin. 

Patsy closed her eyes and rested her head against Delia’s lap, and her hair was caressed softly in return. Patsy listened to her cousin tell Delia tales of childhood adventures. 

“And then there was the day of the Adder” Samuel started with a mischievous look.

“Please Sam, no more tales… one simply can’t think of a punishment grotesque enough if you are to continue!”

“Hush, Delia is enjoying herself”

“I am Cariad, please carry on Sam… when she’s like this she has no energy left for violence no matter what she threatens.”

“I’m not tired”

“Fibber”

Samuel smiled at the pair. “So we were all out riding – Bertie had brought his new lady friend to visit for the weekend… her name completely escapes me”

“Marjorie.” Came the tired whisper. Samuel laughed and Delia raised a comical eyebrow.

“Yes, the beautiful Marjorie. Anyway, we were all out riding and larking about. An adder spooked squirts horse and she lost her seat. Young Patsy was so embarrassed in front of the stunning brunette that she stormed back to the house and demanded mother buy her a motorcycle saying she would no longer ride anything with its own mind unless it could learn to behave in a rational manner. Her cheeks were claret red! It was the only time I remember Patsy not getting her own way.” 

The stories and laughter continued between Delia and Samuel as Patsy contentedly listened. If she was honest with herself she couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed. 

By midnight even Delia was stifling her yawns. “I’ve had a lovely evening Sam but I think it’s time I take Patsy to bed.”

“And I will make no comment no matter how sorely I’m tempted.”

“Samuel.” Patsy said in mortification as she slowly stood. “Please!”

Samuel laughed and hugged his cousin goodnight whispering in her ear. “I think it’s time. But that’s all I’ll say”.

“Goodnight” Patsy said in her finest Nurse Mount voice. Delia bid her own goodnight and followed Patsy out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has sexual content. If that's not your bag of chips the story picks up in chapter 8 and you won't have missed any of the story line... just some pillow talk.

Delia awoke to the sound of rain pelting against the large windows. The clouds appeared heavy and the dawn light was weak. Slipping quietly from the bed Delia tiptoed to the bathroom. When she returned she found Patsy was still snoozing soundly. She slipped back under the inviting bed covers and snuggled into her sweetheart. Closing her eyes her mind ran with everything she had learnt since arriving in the beautiful house. She felt closer to Patsy in so many ways but hoped that there would be no more revelations. Her fingers fiddled with the large beige plastic buttons on Patsy’s pyjama top as she thought on the other people in Patsy’s life. People that she had no idea even existed three days before. Unconsciously her fingers fidgeted with the plastic buttons, running along the plackets and gliding through the gaps of the pyjama top, brushing the soft skin that lay beneath. The exploring fingers ventured further, the second button down easing itself open without Delia realising. Finger tips stroked smooth soft warm skin, her nails grazing delicately on the return. Patsy stirred at the sensation around her chest, yet remained deadly still as she listened to the hypnotic sound of Delia’s breathing. She could tell that the fingers worked mindlessly by their gentle rhythmic patterns. She indulged in the feelings the motion stirred. As the fingers progressed they moved over supple rise of breast and to the textured hardened peak of Patsy’s nipple. Delia opened her eyes and froze as the movement caused a trembling gasp to fall from Patsy. 

“Well I must say this is a rather enjoyable way to wake” Patsy said in a gruff morning whisper as her hand went to Delia’s and stilled its retreat. Her thumb stroked the back of Delia’s hand just as Delia lost all control and ran her finger once more over the straining bud. Patsy used her other hand to pull Delia into a kiss. The kiss was passionate yet languid. Pulling back to look at Patsy Delia thought she must resemble an angel with her red hair splayed out against the pillow. 

“The rain doesn’t look like it will be letting up anytime soon and it’s still early. How about we stay in bed a while?” Delia asked with a shy yet suggestive tone. 

“I can’t think of anything better Deels, I just have a rather pressing need to use the bathroom.”

When Patsy returned it was to a vision laid out on her bed. Delia had folded back the bedding to expose the fine cotton nighty she was wearing as she posed with her head propped against a bent arm, with her other hand patting the space her lover was to take. Patsy happily retook her earlier position and pulled the smaller woman in, capturing her lips hurriedly. Years of stealing kisses in darkened alleys, and fumbles in bedrooms where privacy was uncertain had never allowed for full exploration of each other’s bodies. On occasion the tension between them had been too much, yet the threat of being discovered and its very real consequences always provided just enough willpower to at least keep their activities above clothing. 

Delia loved the unrestrained passion that Patsy hid from the world and she knew that their predicament had been just as torturous for Patsy as it had for herself. As they kissed familiar lips, teeth and tongues engaged in a dance like no other. Delia slowly unbuttoned Patsy’s masculine pyjama top. With the last button undone her hands ran over the quivering stomach and breasts, slowing as nipples skimmed into her palms before pulling the fabric off Patsy’s strong shoulders and down her arms. As she discarded the top her eyes came to focus on the vision before her. Pert breasts heaved with excited breaths and dusky pink nipples strained against the cool air of the room. Delia moved her hands shakenly to palm both breasts, the touch stirring to her very soul. She moved forward and slowly kissed the side of Patsy’s right breast before moving her wanting mouth to engulf the awaiting pink nipple. Patsy shook at the sensation as her hands urgently sought their mates. Fingers entwined as Delia worked the stiffened peak with her tongue and lips, the action singularly the most sensual of her life. Revelling in the touch she earnestly sought the left breast and treated it in the same exploratory but loving manner. 

Hearts thumped and both women trembled as Delia moved and rested her lips on Patsy’s abdomen. She inhaled the familiar scent of her love. Patsy’s scent, just as her personality, was full of complimenting contrasts. Floral notes radiant with the dusky pinks and soft whites of roses, sensuous patchouli and cocoa, with warming, rich and masculine sandalwood provided a deep and carnal fragrance. Mixed with the ever present aroma of bleach and soap the distinctive mix could say so much about the woman to which it belonged.

Removing one hand from Patsy’s grasp Delia ran her fingers over the offered tummy before she noticed a number of very pale scars crossing the alabaster flesh. She looked up at Patsy with empathetic and questioning eyes. The small tear fighting to fall from Patsy’s eye was all Delia needed to know. She kissed each scar tenderly muttering words of love and adoration. When she kissed the last she sat back and pulled her own nightdress over her head and watched Patsy’s reaction. Lip bitten, eyes roaming and hands reaching both women were overwhelmed. Patsy sat forward and embraced Delia, burying her head between her breasts. Her fingers scratched down Delia’s back as she breathed her in. As her hands reached the soft globes of Delia’s bottom Patsy gripped tightly and pulled their two bodies flush together. Both on their knees they kissed once more, an exchange of love and consent in the movement of lips and tongues. 

The pair eased back to lie on the bed, locked in a dizzying kiss. Delia moved her hand down Patsy’s long body, her hand applying increasing pressure as it journeyed over the scared stomach. Stopping at the redundant pyjama bottoms Delia unbuttoned the lone fastening. She gripped the fabric and eased it down, patsy raising her hips to assist. With a wiggle and a kick of her legs Patsy freed herself from the unwanted fabric. 

Delia wasted no time and replaced her hand where it had last held contact and edged it further. Soft skin turned to fine hair as a searching finger lead the advance to Pasty’s most intimate crevice. The moisture that had gathered coated Delia’s fingers as she stroked over the unfamiliar terrain. Patsy gasped at the movements, her eyes closed and her hand searching for reassurance. Instinctively Delia eased her unused arm from beneath herself and threaded her fingers with Patsy’s. Discovering with small circular movements Delia drew more and more whimpered sounds from Patsy whose firm pearl shot waves of electricity through her entire body. Delia continued watching the waves of tremors sweep over her lover’s body, as gasped breaths and flexing hands providing a nonverbal commentary. 

The tension in Patsy grew with each of Delia’s fine motions as Delia’s confidence developed. Adjusting the angle of her hand Delia moved her fingers to the well of moisture and sank two fingers slowly in to the tight yet inviting burrow. Patsy’s eyes opened and locked with Delia’s. The feeling was entirely new and overwhelming. Delia started a steady rhythm, quickly finding and angel and technique that widened Patsy’s searching eyes. She marvelled at the sensation and lost herself in kissing the beautiful red head once more. Purrs and pants broke through the kiss as the small discomfort Patsy had experienced subsided. Small movements of limbs and body they tweaked their positions and in turn the sensations within Patsy intensified. Delia realised quickly that Patsy was building rapidly to her climax. Moving her thumb to rub against the charmed pearl once more Delia locked eyes with Patsy. Patsy gripped tighter to both Delia’s hand and the bedsheet with every thrust of Delia’s fingers. Patsy’s body completely took over and was out of her conscious control, moving and feeling according to its own pleasure and taking her mind for a wonderful ride. Rolling waves of sensation caused pale hips to writhe as she built impossibly higher. Suddenly Patsy felt an intense little point of light explode behind her eyes. An overwhelming feeling of tingles throughout her body, light-headed, vision blurry, and finally a lightness throughout her body and soul. 

Patsy flopped back into the mattress, her hand still clinging tightly to Delia. Words escaped her and she stared up at the ceiling with a blissful smile on her lips as her vision returned to focus. Delia watched the woman she loved as she regained her breath. A light sheen of perspiration covered Patsy’s heaving chest and Delia couldn’t resist but to kiss the exposed nipples once more. The sensation drew a deep groan which beckoned Delia to Patsy’s lips. Patsy lifted her head from the pillow to meet Delia’s kiss and in that moment her world, for the first time in her memory, way balanced and right. 

“You were so so beautiful Cariad” Delia whispered against plump lips. Patsy looked up though long eyelashes on to the face of the woman she loved. “Thank you?” She said and immediately regretted it. Of all the things she could have said! Delia caught her train of thought and hey both burst out in open laughter. 

Patsy and Delia lay in each other’s arms, softly kissing and lightly exploring each other. “Delia, I know I’m not terribly forward in speaking about my feelings but I do love you so very much.” Delia kissed Patsy tenderly. “I know you do – you tell me in every action, every look and every kiss. And I love you. I once said that I wanted to be married and that I wanted to marry you. But I don’t think I ever made it clear that it really is, and only ever has been you Pats. We belong even if we don’t have a wedding. We belong.” Patsy kissed Delia’s neck, moving down to her sculpted shoulders. Delia closed her eyes at the feeling of Patsy’s lips but continued with her train of thought. “The book I borrowed from the library last week was a medieval crime mystery.” Patsy stopped her movements and looked at Delia through narrowed and perplexed eyes. Delia laughed at the adorable expression. “A twist in the story mentioned that in medieval times marriage was recognised when both parties stated they took one another as husband or wife. It didn’t have to be in the presence of any witnesses and you didn’t have to be married by vicar or anyone else.”

“Deels” Patsy started inconceivably moved yet heartbroken by the marriage question once more. 

Delia cut in “I know Pats but it made me think. If it’s in our hearts…”

“Oh Delia. I will always be yours, we will belong to each other I promise. In our hearts it will always be. But I do believe as you once said that one day, there will be somewhere.”

Patsy rolled onto Delia and extended her arms in order to gaze down upon her beloved. “In my heart until it’s recognised on paper I will be your wife.” Delia was a swell of emotion and just spoke “wife” in an emotional Welsh lilt. Patsy swooped down and took Delia’s lips against her own, a sacred promise filled with love. 

Emotion and tension once more intensified the kiss as Patsy’s body ground against the soft form beneath. Small kisses formed a trail from Delia’s lips down her neck, collar, breasts and abdomen. Patsy hesitated, before returning to rondure breasts and indulging in the sensations they brought. Delia ran her fingers through Patsy’s loose and untamed hair as her lover licked, sucked and nibbled around her rigid nipple. The sounds radiating from Delia were akin to the softest Welsh hymns which drove Patsy to allow her mouth to explore more body. Feeling the firmness of Delia’s ribs and the softness of tummy against her mouth was intoxicating. Lips like feathers ran over her skin, massaging her body and charting every curve. Still she ventured down, her own body alive is skin moved against skin. Delia’s legs parted further as Patsy’s body lowered. Kisses continued worshipping the flawless flesh as Patsy’s hand reached up to knead firm breasts and buds. 

As Patsy kissed languorously she journeyed over the soft hairs on Delia’s mound to her upper thighs, applying attention on each in turn. Despite being incredibly familiar with the most intimate parts of the female anatomy Patsy had always found herself apprehensive when thinking of Delia in this very position. But she found herself between Delia’s thighs trembling in excitement not trepidation. The noises coming from her love spurred Patsy on and she nuzzled her nose against Delia’s clitoris before her tongue parted her folds and savoured the essence that pooled within. She licked firmly just as she did when eating an ice cream on the pier at Brighton. Experimenting with just about every angle Patsy drew a wanton plea from her lover as she sucked her Pearl and rolled across her lips. Delia moaned and begged as her body raved under Patsy’s attention. 

Adjusting her position once more Patsy ran a hand over Delia’s thigh in calf widening her gait. Without any release from the attentions of Patsy’s tongue Delia felt a new pressure at her opening. Sliding in one finger a small way Patsy withdrew and inserted two fingers. Patsy felt a small resistance as she pushed past Delia’s virginal tissue. Delia’s whimpers changed as Patsy broke the barrier. Patsy stalled and halted her movement before she was reassured as to Delia’s comfort. Sliding, swirling, and rubbing slippery and gracefully Delia was lifted to new heights. The combined feeling of Patsy’s tongue and fingers ignited every fibre as Delia grasped at Patsy and trembled beneath her touch. Delia’s volume increased as her toes curled, her muscles tightened and quivering sensation overcame her upper thighs. Her Breathing became increasingly irregular as she lost herself as the explosion erupted throughout her entire body, overwhelming and awesome.

When Delia’s body stilled Patsy began to kiss her way back up her love, the taste of Delia’s passion still consuming her senses. As she reached Delia’s lips they kissed. Patsy embraced the smaller woman and rolled them softly three lay on their sides facing each other. Both smiling with both spoke… “That was…” “I’ve never…” They both laughed at their attempts to find the words. Patsy reached forward to entwine her fingers. They belonged.


	8. Chapter 8

Samuel opened a large cardboard box and placed the contents on the table in four equal piles. “Did Patsy and Delia joins you for breakfast?”

Liz looked up from the morning paper and surveyed the vast number of papers now covering the dining table. “No, but I stepped out early to visit with Vicar Rose and   
his wife in order to discuss the final details of the Christmas fair. Have you not seen them this morning?”

“I must’ve missed them also” Samuel said as he opened his briefcase at the head of the table and pulled out an executive pad and fine fountain pen. Before any more could be said the sound of Patsy and Delia giggling merrily drifted through the hall. “Morning girls” Liz said drawing them to peer their heads around the dining room door. Morning greetings were exchanged and Patsy’s heart sank a little at the sight of the large table scattered with written pleas. Reality was seeping back through Patsy's ecstasy but the feeling of Delia by her side reinforced her resistance. Patsy excused them, explaining their urgent need for coffee but promised they would re-join them in the dining room with a pot for all.

Several minutes later Delia appeared in the dining room carrying a tray with a pot of coffee, a small jug of milk and 4 cups and saucers. She placed the tray on the table and took the seat in which she had previously sat for breakfast. Patsy meandered behind nibbling on a biscuit and taking the chair next to Delia. Both women unconsciously moved their chairs closer together as Delia poured the steaming coffee. Liz happily accepted a cup from Delia and took a sip. “I decided with the weather been so utterly dire we should use the afternoon to make a start on the review.”

Patsy quietly nibbled on a biscuit but with a sigh pulled the first pile of papers towards herself. Delia looked at Patsy questioningly “review?”

Samuel looked up from the paper on which he was writing. “Patsy has made you part of the review of the applications for funding from the foundation. We distribute money to causes in England Wales and Southeast Asia for the betterment of the health and lives of women and children. There are some more guidelines in the foundation scope but all these applications here meet the required criteria. It’s our job this afternoon to decide for which projects we want to provide funds.”

Delia nodded as she looked over the piles of paper. She had no idea how to even estimate how many applications were lying before them. Patsy placed a hand on Delia’s knee, her thumb stroking soft patterns. “We found if we each take a pile and read through the applications it is most efficient. If you read an application you think we should potentially fund you read out the details, we discuss it is a group and make a decision.” Patsy slid the pile of papers that had previously sat in front of her over to Delia and retrieved a second pile for herself. Liz and Samuel also retrieved a pile each and started to look through the information, accounts and requests each document contained. Liz read an application as an example for Delia and explained why in this case she didn’t believe funding new sports equipment for the grammar school in question was an appropriate use of resources. Delia embraced the process and found it remarkably easy to give her opinion on the cases put forwards. She recognised that this was obviously not a process that Patsy enjoyed, but rather approached with the same efficient candour that she implemented when nursing. Delia wondered if there was any way she could help the other woman feel more comfortable with this task, but for now she would settle for a show of enthused solidarity.

“I may have an application of interest” Liz said as she looked up from the paper she was reading. “It’s from a Sister Julienne, Sister-in-charge of Nonnatus house, Poplar?”

Patsy immediately looked at her aunt “Sister Julienne?” Patsy turned her gaze to Delia before returning it to Liz. “What is the application for?”

“Sister Julienne puts forward the case for funding over the next three years to allow the employment of two medical orderlies and one lab technician. The sister states provision of the staff would ease the workload of the nursing sisters and the NHS midwives. She goes on to reference a paper written on shorter working hours and patient safety. Sister Julienne has requested £14,000 annually for three years.”

Delia looked at Patsy “you won’t find me arguing if it means you get more time off Cariad, it feels as though I hardly see you some weeks? But that is an awful lot of money. Would there be enough money in the foundation for such a large request?” With the last question she looked Samuel.

Samuel smiled warmly. “The foundation is still investing some of its resources to ensure a long-term and diverse income stream, however this year we have £126,500 available to offer in funding.”

Delia’s eyes grew large as she looked at Patsy. “Patsy?” The redheaded woman cleared her throat and refused to meet the gaze of her love. “Your thoughts Samuel?”

“I agree with Delia. As your cousin I wholeheartedly back any program that reduces your workload and allows you more time with Delia and to visit with me. As a trustee I believe that regardless of your connection with Nonnatus house this money could improve the care and health education offered to women and children in one of the most deprived areas in our country. I vote Aye.”

“Aye” came the response from Liz, echoed by Delia. Patsy looked uneasy. “The intention of this foundation was never for me or anybody else in this family to profit, be it is financially or otherwise.”

“But Patsy, think of the good it can do, and think of Trixie and Barbara and nurse Crane. Even Sister Evangeline would benefit in a small reduction in her workload.”  
Patsy looked longingly at Delia, her focus shifting the with depth of her beautiful eyes “Aye.”

The process moved on with applications been discussed and disregarded well into the afternoon. Around 3 o’clock Patsy noticed Delia had been uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes. She looked over at the small woman as she watched her read and re-read an application over and over. “What is it Deels?”

With shaking hands Delia looked up from the submission. “This may not fit the foundation’s objectives” Delia said quietly. Patsy looking concerned and enquired as to what the application was for while she moved a stray strand of hair away from Delia's face. “It’s from University College London. They are requesting funding for the Acute Stroke and Brain Injury Unit to research retrograde amnesia as a result of acute brain injury.” Patsy gently reached for the paper and ran her eye over the information while her hand gripped Delia’s atop the table. She read the key points to Samuel and Liz who could both see how emotive the subject was to both women. They had spoken to Patsy at length after Delia's accident and they knew the impact that had had. They had all been exceptionally worried about how Patsy was coping knowing that she couldn't be open with her grief. When Patsy had mentioned on the telephone that Delia's memory was recovered and she was moving back to London they were relieved and elated that Patsy would find part of her happiness again. The unanimous verdict was that this was the most worthwhile cause and Samuel calculated a generous settlement. Patsy did not release Delia’s hand to the rest of the review.

After all the applications had been sorted Samuel refilled the cardboard box and finalised his notes. Patsy and Delia excused themselves and retreated back to their room. It been an emotional and exhausting afternoon following an intense and passionate morning. Patsy held Delia as they drifted off to sleep, safe in each other’s arms and dreaming of their earlier exploits. Three hours later Patsy woke feeling absolutely famished. She untangled herself from Delia and walked to retrieve supper for them both. Tonight she would be more than content with Delia’s company and hopefully a replay of their morning activities.

The morning light shone through the windows as the pale blue sky stretched clear into the distance. Patsy and Delia had woken and dressed determined not to be conspicuously absent from another breakfast. When they reached the dining room Liz, Charles and Samuel were already sipping on their morning tea and chatting. The two women greeted the family and took what now appeared to be ‘their places’ at the table. They both unconsciously moved their chairs closer together just as Mr Morris appeared carrying a large silver tray. Placing it on the buffet he brought two plates of Kedgeree to the table and placed it in front of Liz and Samuel. He then retrieved a cooked breakfast of bacon, sausage and eggs for Charles. Patsy almost jumped with excitement at the sight of the rice dish making Delia chuckle at her child like expression. Mr Morris asked the late comers what they would like for their breakfast and Patsy requested the Kedgeree. “I think I would like to try that too please” Delia said “I’ve not had that before.” While Mrs Downes, the family cook readied the meals Mr Morris returned with a steaming pot of coffee for Patsy and a glass of milk for Delia. He already knew Patsy’s tastes and quickly learnt of Delia’s affinity for milk and milky brews. They ate their breakfast filled with laughter and easy conversation. Delia tasted the curried rice, smoked haddock and egg dish and with wide eyes reached for her milk, never more grateful for her choice of morning beverage. Patsy watched Delia with amusement while Liz checked the young Welsh woman was “quite well?” Delia laughed at herself and said she had never tasted anything like it but that was in fact delicious. To illustrate her point she took another fork full but again had to reach straight for her milk. Patsy knew the breakfast was not too spicy but she also recognised Delia had not had opportunity to experience exotic cooking, not matter how subtle the heat.

“Well that has a kick to it!” Delia said as Patsy watched proudly on. “I’ve not had anything like that before. Neither the nurses home or my ma’s cooking are very glamorous.”

“Oh Patsy, you must take Delia out more. I’m told there are some wonderful Indian and Chinese restaurants in the Westend.”

“I’m quite happy with fish and chips as a treat. Eating in the Westend is a bit pricy.” Delia blushed when she realised what she had said and Patsy looked at her with sorrow. She could provide Delia with so many fabulous experiences she knows Delia would love and embrace, but regardless of the financial situation she was concerned she would feel conspicuous. She knew other girls dined together frequently and nobody would think anything of it but she was paranoid. But that look.   
The excitement at trying something new and the resolution that there were things in life she wouldn’t get to try because of their limited earnings broke Patsy. “I will take you out for an Indian meal and a Chinese meal when we get back to London Deels. I promise.”

“You must hold her to that Delia, I made Charles take me out to all the best places when we were courting and first married. We’d dine, he’d buy me a ‘gin and it’ and dance… of course Charles has two left feet”

“I’ll give you two left feet my dear, I can still cut a rug” Charles stood and kissed Liz’s cheek. “Rum pum pum da dee dee dar…” he sang as he danced out of the room in a somewhat unbalanced fashion. Patsy held Delia’s hand as she watched the mutual love and respect displayed by the older couple.

The morning passed quickly and Delia found herself feeling increasingly at home in the big house. It was the Orangery were the pair had decided to spend some time writing letter’s. Delia wrote to her parents while Patsy completed some less personal correspondence that Samuel required her to write. “This is a beautiful room” Delia said as she looked around the tropical plants, flag stone floor and Lloyd loom furnishings “I feel like we could be in Italy like La Dolce Vita with Anita Ekberg.”   
As the pair mused as to the peaceful atmosphere a shrill humming of an aeroplane engine floated from the distance.

“That sound will always remind me of the war no matter how much I hear it” Patsy said as she looked out of the expanse of windows. Shaking the memories of war from her mind she settled her thoughts back to Delia and watched the concentration of her beautiful face as she wrote.

“Stop staring Pats” Delia said as she remained focused on her letter.

“I’m not staring”

“Fibber! Are you finished with your letters?”

“Nearly.” Patsy reread her last letter and happy with the contents folded the fine paper and placed it in an envelope.

“Patsy? Delia?” Liz shouted as she ran excitedly through the house. “Samuel thinks the aeroplane is Bertie’s. Mr Morris has taken the car to the Aerodrome to meet him! Oh, I must find Charles.” Liz disappeared as quickly as she arrived and Patsy smiled as she watched her aunt rush away.

“Bertie hasn’t been back in England for over two years. He works for the business in Singapore. Will we go and meet him?” Delia nodded more relaxed at the thought of meeting another member of the family.

Delia and Patsy stood in the drawing room window and watched for Bertie approaching. Liz walked over to join them still brimming with anticipation. “I hope he’s been eating well, I do worry he’s always been such a quiet boy. Maybe I should send him to London with you Patsy. See if you can find him a beautiful girl like Delia to look after him too?” The statement caused a deep blush from the Welsh woman. Patsy beamed proudly and squeezed Delia hand.

“God lord that motorcar is travelling at a rate of knots” Delia observed through the window as the red motorcar in question advanced down the long drive, gathering momentum. Panic flooded the three ladies and they quickly made their way out of the house.

The burgundy Mark II Jaguar skidded to a halt on the loose chippings in front of the house. A tall strawberry blonde man in khaki trousers, white shirt, brown leather bomber jacket and utility boots hurriedly exited the rear door and pulled from the seat a small limp women. He lifted her into his arms as her head tucked into his shoulder, long black hair disguising her face. “Bertie?” Liz questioned as she ran towards her son and the small women wrapped in his arms. Liz looked at the girl and her beautiful Malaysian complexion. She wore a brightly coloured dress flapping in the cold breeze yet beads of perspiration ran down her forehead.

Bertie looked at his mother and cousin. “Ma-mar, Pats? Help?" All three women ran to help the anguished man. Bertie looked at his cousin with tear filled eyes. “Patsy she’s pregnant.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Good lord” Patsy said as she looked at her cousin and the woman so lovingly sheltered in his arms. “Take her inside out of this cold Bertie. Aunt Liz, which bedroom is most suitable?”

“The Blue Room darling. Oh do be careful” 

Bertie quickly made his way inside as Patsy and Delia moved swiftly behind, Patsy’s hand against his back offering guidance and support. Liz ran ahead, taking the stairs at the pace of a woman half her age. Liz led the distressed party into the first bedroom on the first floor “In here, bring her in…” She moved swiftly across the darkened room and opened the large shutters. Yellowish beams of light were cast over a simple iron double bed dressed with plain white linens, unassuming bedside tables, tall boy and wardrobe. It was modest and elegant yet colder than the ideal. Delia looked at the empty harth. “Liz, could you call the doctor to come as soon as maybe and organise some kindling and logs? I think we need a fire.” As Liz hurried away Delia took a basin from the washstand and went to fill it with water in the bathroom. 

Bertie lay the young woman softly down on the bed and stepped back. His eyes never left her face and Patsy was sure she could hear muttered prayers leaving his lips. “What’s her name Bertie?” Bertie rang his hands as his panic increased. Delia placed the bowl on the bedside table and lay the flannel and towels next to the baroque washbasin as Patsy tried again more forcefully. “Bertie, her name?”

“It’s Mai” came the broken reply.

“Mai, I’m Nurse Mount and this is Nurse Busby.” Patsy was unsure why she had made such a formal introduction but she hoped perhaps it would be reassuring to the stranger.

“She doesn’t speak English” Bertie Whispered causing Patsy to stop as Delia felt the speed of Mai’s pulse. “She only speaks Malay.” 

Patsy sat on the edge of the bed running her hand to feel the heat radiate from Mai’s forehead. “Saya Patsy, sepupu Bertie. Dan ini adalah Delia . Kami adalah jururawat. Kami akan menjaga anda dan bayi anda ... " Patsy felt the small woman calm in her fevered state. Delia looked at Patsy with knitted brows. “I hope I just introduced us and told her I am Bertie’s cousin, and that we are both nurses. I’ve told her we will look after her and her baby. I’ve not spoken any Malay in well over a decade and it was patchy at best when I was a child.”

Delia softly smiled and nodded while she placed the cool flannel against the patients blazing face. Without any equipment they could only monitor Mai’s pulse and laboured breathing. Patsy examined the slightly protruding tummy through her thin dress and estimated the pregnancy was in its fifth month, but it was difficult to be accurate. Without a Pinard she couldn’t check on the baby’s heart rate. Their only option was to make the girl as comfortable as they could and wait for the doctor to arrive. Delia talked reassuringly to Mai, and Patsy marvelled how Delia’s voice was a tonic in itself. Patsy looked over the young woman’s face, her pretty features looked calm despite her temperature being alarmingly high. The skin on her face was flawless. She softly pulled Mai’s lower eyelid down, first the left and then the right, but neither eye was bloodshot or dry, and there was no paleness. Patsy delicately unbuttoned the colourful dress and looked for any blemishes or marks on Mai’s chest. Then her hands, looking at the back, then the palm and finally her nails she examined them both thoroughly before softly setting them back at her sides. 

When Liz came back to the room she was followed by Mr Morris carrying a canvas sling full of logs, kindling and matches. He set about lighting the fire while Liz silently embraced her son whose sobs grew louder through the room. She looked on as Patsy and Delia seamlessly work together reassuring Mai and making her feel as comfortable and safe as possible. 

The afternoon passed in a blur, the doctor visited and reassured the family that Mai was simply suffering from a fever and exhaustion most likely result of a flu bug and fatigue from her long journey. The evening found Liz, Samuel, Patsy and Delia sitting in the snug and talking through the events of the day. “Doctor Druff hasn’t changed at all” Patsy observed as she pulled Delia’s legs to lie over her own as Delia nestled further into the sofa cushions. 

“I’ve met lots of arrogant doctors on male surgical but he was rude. Fel rhech mewn pot jam as my Tadcu used to say.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” Patsy asked with a giggle.

“useless”

“No no nurse Busby. We want the poetic translation!” Patsy teased drawing laughter from her aunt and cousin. 

“Useless, like a fart in a jam jar.” Delia blushed as the room filled with laughter. “He was horrid doctor though”

Samuel stood to pour another Drink. “Pats used to call him Doctor Dan, Doctor Dan Druff” 

“I hope his Diagnosis was correct. What do you think Patsy?” Liz questioned. 

“His examination appeared thorough. We’ll see if her fever eases tomorrow.” The group sat in silence, the tick of the mantel clock and the crackle of the fire the only sounds.

Patsy ran her hand softly over Delia’s leg. “Did Bertie say any more about Mai?”

Liz nodded. She was always very close to all her children and Bertie was the most sensitive. If she was honest with herself she was somewhat upset that Bertie hadn’t told her about Mai or the baby before. “The baby is his. He brought Mai back here because there are some political tensions in the region.”

“Is she from Singapore?” Samuel asked as he offered a cigarette to Patsy. Liz shook her head. “Langkawi I think.” Silence again drifted through the room. “She’s very beautiful” Liz said with a sad smile. “I do hope the baby will be healthy after this.”

“You always say babies are resilient don’t you Pats” Delia said earning a reassuring nod. “I do think Mai should go to the hospital though to be thoroughly checked.” Patsy nodded as she stifled a yawn. As Delia drained the last of her drink she swung her feet to the floor and stood pulling Patsy with her. “We will go and check on Mai and Bertie then call it a night”. 

Goodnights and thanks were shared and the young women made their way upstairs. Liz watched them go and picked up her drink. “Bertie is distraught. Has he mentioned Mai to you before? Did you know he was even courting?”

“No, he’s not mentioned anything to me. He’s been travelling a lot as we’ve been securing new trade possibilities. He has sounded happy the few times we spoke on the telephone. I don’t think he would cope very well with a heartbreak. I don’t think he was the same after the Gwynn girl left him for that Colonel.”  
“Well, I didn’t think we would see the day that he would stop flying around the world and settle down with a wife and child.”

“But I don’t think they are married yet.”

“No, but hopefully soon Samuel.”

 

When Patsy woke the next morning she was alone in the large bed and the sheets next to her were cool to the touch. She rolled to her back and stretched. Resisting the temptation to curl back up in the sheets she made her way to the bathroom. Washed and dressed she thought she would check in on Mai on her way to find Delia and breakfast. As she approached the Blue Room she could hear Delia and Bertie talking. “Good morning good morning.” Patsy walked into the room and stood behind Delia, resting her hand on Delia’s small shoulders. Delia lifted her own hand to hold its companion and turned her head to kiss it. Patsy looked at Mai who’s eyes were open and searching. Walking to perch on the side of her bed Patsy smiled. “Good morning, Selamat pagi”

Mai nodded her head slightly. “Selamat pagi” came the small exhausted voice. 

“How are you feeling? bagaimana perasaan anda?”

Mai looked to Bertie who was holding her hand before replying to Patsy. “sedikit lebih baik”

Patsy looked relieved and nodded in understanding. “That’s good.”

A tear ran from Mai’s deep brown scared eyes “bayi saya masih hidup?”

Patsy immediately smiled and placed her hand softly on Mai’s tummy. “Yes, your baby appears to be strong and healthy, Ya , bayi anda kuat dan sihat.” Overcome with relief Mai sobbed as Bertie leant over to kiss her lips softly. 

“We will leave you two to it but allow her to get some rest soon Bertie. And you need something to eat, you missed supper last night.” 

As they walked slowly down the stairs Delia took Patsy’s hand. “I’m so glad she’s ok. They are obviously deeply in love but your cousin said he doesn’t speak much Malay?” 

“No I don’t think he does. He has translators when he is working but he will pick it up quickly I’m sure”.

“I didn’t know you could speak any foreign languages Cariad? Well I suppose I thought you might speak some French from School, but nothing so exotic”.  
“Says my own exotic Welsh beauty!” Delia laughed. “I had a nanny in Singapore who spoke Malay to me. I don’t think she was meant to but I enjoyed learning. I haven’t spoken it in a long time. I’m just relieved Mai seems to understand the gist of what I’m saying.” 

Breakfast was a cheerful affair, a household relieved that Bertie had returned safely and that his lady friend was recovering. “I was intending to take Delia into Chattenton for a spot of Christmas shopping and a pub lunch but I wonder now if we should stay here just in case we are needed.” 

After much persuasion Patsy and Delia started out to the local market town. Patsy was still wasn’t a fan of the conspicuous car but she, as part of the Mount family and despite her prolonged absence from the area, was known. 

Patsy pulled the motorcar into a small side street and parked behind two others. Opening her purse Patsy pulled a number of notes out. Here is fifty pounds. I want you to put it in your wallet. If you want to buy anything then you buy it. It would look strange for me to pay for anything you want…”  
“I don’t want your money Patsy…”

“Please Delia. Let me enjoy it for once. We can’t go out in London and return loaded with shopping bags. Trixie for one would ask far too many questions. Maybe we could purchase a new outfit each for when we go to Gateways Club? Or a new coat? You said you needed one?” Delia took the money and placed it in her purse, feeling more at ease with the situation than she thought she maybe should be. She voiced as much to Patsy who laughed and said she was glad. The high street was busy with shoppers bustling past each other with bags and packages. The sight was beautiful. The buildings lining the street displayed examples of varying architectural styles, including Tudor timber frames and Georgian red brick. Festive festoon lights were strung between the buildings and small Christmas trees hung suspended over the road. The shops had given a festive edge to their window displays. It was a biscuit tine vision. Patsy opened the door to the first boutique and ushered Delia inside. As the door shut behind them the shop fell silent as the handful of patrons and the two sales girl all stared. The senior sales girl quickly checked her behaviour and approached Patsy. Miss Mount, it is a pleasure to see you in Chattenton. Can I be of any assistance?” With grace but authority Patsy said they would be happy perusing and would call her if required. The young woman retreated and slowly the hubble bubble of the shop returned. Delia felt for Patsy but set about looking through the very tasteful clothes on display in the hopes it would normalise the situation. Holding a blue and gold silk shift dress against herself Delia looked in the mirror “I’m going to try this on.” Patsy watched Delia disappear behind a curtain and tried to maintain her resolve and look through the ladies blouses. 

“Pats?” Delia called as she stepped out from behind the curtain. 

Looking around Patsy was sure her jaw dropped at the sight of Delia in the dress. The cut was extremely flattering and the expensive fabric suited her complexion perfectly. Delia didn’t need any more convincing. She giggled as she returned to change back to her own cloths before taking the item to the cashier. Wrapping the dress in tissue paper and placing it in a box with a ribbon the sales clerk rang up the sale, £18/8/4d. Delia was exhilarated as she reached into her purse and pulled out four crisp five pound notes. She felt as though she was playing a part in a film, acting that this was a normal, everyday occurrence for her. The cashier thanked her for her business and handed her the package by which time Patsy was back at her side ready to move on to the next shop. Their routine continued for another half dozen shops before they decided to have a late lunch. Delia had purchased two new dresses, a new coat and three new pairs of nylons. Patsy had found some tailored check trousers she liked very much and two button down shirts. She also brought a new dress and a pair of brown shoes in a brogue style. Together they picked out Christmas gifts for Trixie, Barbara, the Turners and Nurse Crane and debated in length if a communal gift would be suitable for the sisters. They settled on a hamper of local chutneys, jams and biscuits and arranged its delivery to Boreton. 

Their lunch was excellent and although they didn’t feel as liberated as they did at Boreton there was an unassuming air to the lounge bar at the Feathers. The barmaid chatted happily as she waited on the couple and Patsy found her paranoia was more repressed than it often was when in London. She wandered if it was a question of Geography or the fact that she was no longer hiding parts of herself from Delia. 

As Patsy gathered their shopping she followed Delia out of the Feathers and back onto the High Street. He wind had picked up and the bitter air bit as it whisked past. People huddled together as they walked, husbands sheltering their wives with their large overcoats and younger woman walking arm in arm against the elements. Delia grabbed Patsy’s arm and threaded her own through its crook. They set off aimlessly walking anonymously in the crowds as the daylight began to fade. Delia suddenly changed direction and started to lead Patsy down a quaint side street to a shop with a large swinging sign above: Green and Bond, Ladies Undergarments.

A bell rang above the door as they entered and a middle aged lady came from a room in the back. “Good afternoon. Can I help you ladies?”

Delia spoke happily to the assistant explaining what she had in mind while Patsy lost herself browsing through the ranges of bra’s, corsets, girdles and slips. Delia slipped into a dressing room only to have the assistant follow with a selection of Bras. Patsy knew what Delia’s game was in bringing them in here but she liked it and knew she would like it even more when she had opportunity to remove the lingerie from her love. When Delia had finally selected two new bras with matchings pants and garter belts and a buttercup yellow silk slip she grinned at Patsy who couldn’t help the blush that coloured her face. 

Pulling the motorcar up outside the house and turn off the engine Patsy couldn’t help giving in, and reaching over to kiss Delia. The kiss was passionate and exploring and Patsy regretted instigating it if only for the fact that they would have to be social and spend the evening with the family. They pulled apart reluctantly.  
“Thank you for today Cariad. I had a lovely time. I don’t think I have ever brought so much in one day, or such fine things. You’ve spoilt me.”

“You spoil me every day and I enjoyed myself too. I loved sharing this with you. Today my money felt less of a curse” Patsy pulled a comically dramatic face with wide eyes and laughter filled the motorcar. 

Mr Morris opened the front door to the ‘shoppers’ who were laden with bags and packages. With a small bow he asked if he could be permitted to relieve them of their parcels but they said they were quite happy to carry those upstairs themselves. As the approached the stairs Liz appeared with a martini in hand. “Oh good your back girls, and its looks like you have had a successful day?”

Patsy and Delia greeted Liz and conceded they had had a wonderful time noting little change in the local town since Patsy’s last visit. They asked after Mai and Bertie and were told that the young lady was feeling much better and hoped to be out of bed the following day. The continued their journey upstairs to stow their shopping and change for dinner. Just as they reached the top of the first run of stairs Liz shouted behind them “Oh and Patsy, your father arrived earlier today. He’s gone shooting with Charles at Ellon Heath so they are expected back by supper.” Patsy never knew if she felt as others did at news of seeing her father. It had been a year since they last met and they spoke on the telephone infrequently. She was excited to a degree yet a churning sensation started in the pit of her stomach akin to extreme worry. But today she going to introduce Delia and nearly the entire family were there to support her.


	10. Chapter 10

Delia shook with nerves as they stood at the door to the Drawing Room. She was unsure why she was acting in such a manner despite Patsy trying her best to calm her. Delia wore one of her new dresses for the evening, cornflower blue with a boat neck, nipped in at the waist with six large white buttons adorning the body. She felt elegant yet fashionable but hoped it was suitable. Patsy had reassured her she looked beautiful, and she could tell from the look in Patsy’s eyes that her partner whole heartedly approved, nevertheless this evening was something different something more. This was not only the first time she was to meet a parent of someone she dated, it was the only time. She had not dated anyone before Patsy, well not since Dylan Jones. That relationship only lasted for four days in primary school but it did include a makeshift wedding one lunchtime. This evening however she was meeting Patsy’s father and the thought was intimidating. 

Patsy couldn’t hold in a chortle at the state Delia was in. “Deels, I’m certain my father will adore you” Patsy said as she placed a chaste peck on Delia’s lips. “There is nothing to be nervous about. He is a very kind man.” The drawing room door opened fully just as Patsy placed a second and slightly less chaste kiss upon Delia’s Lips. A frail looking man stood looking at the couple sternly. He had obviously been a tall man in his youth but had hunched over with age. “Patience darling please don’t paint me as apathetic until I have fulfilled my fatherly duty and quizzed Miss Busby as to her intensions towards you. And please remember who you are. Carrying on like that whilst lurking. Really Patience I thought better of you.” Patsy looked at the ground mortified that her father had caught her in such an intimate act. Liz walked over to the group. “Lurking Lizzy. They were lurking! You know I cannot abide lurking.”

Relief flooded Patsy as she realised this was the eccentric side to her father’s humour. “Daddy” she smiled as she embraced the smaller man. Liz laughed at the mortified look on Delia’s face. She patted the young woman’s arm as she walked away to allow the three time for introductions. As Patsy hugged her father she could feel his skin move loosely against bone, his small frame fragile beneath her arms. This was part of what broke her heart every time she saw him. You would never believe on appearances that Fitzroy Mount was only three years his sisters senior. She remembers him still as the dashing and physically fit man in his thirties who played tennis daily and conducted himself with a suave demeanour. As a young child she had fond memories of her mother panicking as he would pick both Annie and herself up and place them on each of his shoulders. He had done it so many times particularly when they had gone to watch the Polo at the Royal Berkshire in Kuala Lumper and each time she would be ecstatic. Not only for the advantageous view but also because, sat lovingly on her father’s shoulders seemed to her to be the safest place in the world. Now each time Patsy held her father he appeared to have lost more weight, frailer, but his mood at least on first appearance, seemed much improved today. As she released him she steps back to stand with Delia. “Daddy, this is my Delia. De-Delia Busby. Sorry Miss Delia Busby.”

“Darling, I’m quite sure your stammering is doing little to improve this beautiful young ladies nerves.”

“Quite, sorry. Deels, this is my father Sir Fitzroy Mount.”

Knighted too! Delia lost all control and barely stopped herself from curtsying. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Sir Mount.”

“My dear Delia please call me Fitz. I believe we are as good as family and the pleasure is all mine indeed. Now let us see if Mr Morris will favour is with one of his more creative cocktails shall we, then I can get to know the person who has won the heart of my darling Patience.” He offered an arm to his daughter and one to Delia before he led them into the drawing room brimming with pride. Fitz sat next to his sister who gave him an approving look and patted the back of his hand. “Now my dear Delia, how has my darling Patience been? She works too much I think?”

“I am very well daddy. And it simply isn’t possible to work too hard when one enjoys their job as much as I do mine.”

“That’s lovely darling but I want to hear all about you from dear Delia.” Delia laughed at the pout that appeared in jest on Patsy’s face. 

“Well, she works too hard but I try to make sure there is a cup of Bourn-vita with a tot of Johnny Walker in when she gets back to Nonnatus House in the evening.” 

Delia moved her hand blindly to grip Patsy’s. “She has an entire pack of cubs tamed and she is something of a local heroin in Poplar.” Delia looked into Patsy’s eyes. Noticing the elegant woman felt uneasy with the compliments but on this occasion Delia wanted to plough on. “Doctor Turner told me Patsy’s diagnostic skills are second to none. He frequently requests Patsy’s assistance with cases. She is respected and talented and loved by all the nuns and nurses at Nonnatus. I will do everything I can to remind her each and every day just how loved she is.”

Fitz looked at the couple in silence for several long seconds. “The Bourn-vita aspect sounds quite dubious, an unadulterated Scotch may be an improvement” Fitz said with a serious expression. The entire party laughed and Patsy moved to kneel on the floor in front of her father and hugged him. “I’m terribly proud of you darling.” Patsy listened as she moved back to her place next to Delia. “And dear Delia, anyone who obviously loves my daughter so, looks after her, and talks about her with such affection has my wholehearted approval. I can say with all my heart Patsy, if your mother could be here today she…” Fitz struggled with a rush of emotion which he felt ball in his throat but he continued despite how unaccustomed he had become at expressing anything regarding his beloved late wife. “She would be so happy to see you both together. All either of us ever wanted was for you and Annie to know the same love that we shared.” Patsy’s eyes welled at his words buy a smile appeared and was mirrored in her father’s face. She hoped maybe this would be the start of him talking about her mother more often. She remembered her as a mother, all the things she did to care for her and love her. She remembered how she sacrificed herself in so many ways in the camp to ensure she and Annie had food and water and somewhere safe to sleep. She remembers her mother throwing parties and the dresses and jewellery, music and dancing. She remembers her mother singing softly as she played teddy bears picnic with Annie, sheltered from the in the searing sun by a pagoda in their garden. But she didn’t know anything about her mother as a woman. She was sure she remembered her mother attending lectures and writing letters to politicians and influential people but she didn’t know the topics that were close to her mother’s heart. 

Mr Morris walked in with a tray of drinks breaking the emotional charge in the room. Fitz broke his eye contact from Patsy and looked up at the Valet. “Excellent, excellent. And what is today’s potion Mr Morris? The Gin Commodore you mixed in August was a masterpiece of superfluous measures.”

“Today we have a Mint Julep, Sir.” The pretty drinks were offered around the room and conversation flowed in a more casual manner. Harold Macmillan, the introduction of the contraceptive pill on the NHS, and traffic on the new motorway all made the tête-à-tête. Mr Morris announced dinner and the family moved through to the dining room. 

As they took their seats Bertie and Mai appeared at the door. Mai looked considerably better but was obviously nervous walking into the room. She wore a long turquoise silk dress covered in a bold print of golds and greens and oranges. It was exotic and showed off her small pregnant belly. When Mai recognised Patsy and Delia she smiled with relief. “Come and join us Mai, datang dan sertai kami” Patsy said and Delia gestured to the chair next to her own. “You look well, anda kelihatan sihat.” Mai sat nervously as Mr Morris and a maid carried the meals of Grouse, Game Chips, Bread Sauce and Crumbs. 

Fitz placed a small spoonful of the offered vegetables onto his plate. “I didn’t know you spoke any Malay darling?”

“I’ve not spoken any for years. Our nanny Ether taught me in Singapore and I’m rather glad she did. One never knows when these things will come in useful.”

Delia felt so comfortable with the family. She looked about the characters gathered around the table and realised that she not only liked the people here but she had a growing affection for each of them. Liz had been so kind and welcoming from the moment they had arrived at Boreton, they had sat and chatted over countless cups of tea and she would happily class the lady as a friend. Charles was never in one room for long but his casual manner and grumbling comments about one thing or another reminded her of her own Tad. She had learnt that Samuel was not only cousin to Patsy but the pair were also very close friends and confidants. He knew far more about her than she did him but she was in no doubt that they would spend much more time together in the future when her shifts allow time to join the cousins for afternoon tea or supper. She had spent over an hour talking with Bertie the previous morning before Patsy joined them at Mai’s bedside and she had enjoyed his company even though she did detect a restless nature to the younger man. He was quiet and inquisitive but filled with wanderlust when speaking about the beautiful countries her travels with his work. She couldn’t say she had any grasp of Mai’s personality from the couple of days they had both been guests here. However, the obvious love she shared with Bertie and the way she looked at Patsy to understand what was happening around her rendered a feeling of camaraderie. Sir Fitzroy Mount made a profound impression on Delia. He was jolly and enthusiastic but the sadness he hid behind his jovial manner, and the emotion he showed towards Patsy had resonated deep within her. His heath was obviously detreating, she noticed a small tremor in his head and left arm and he was clearly unsteady on his feet. She would try and talk to Patsy about that when they were back in Poplar. But all in all she could not be more pleased with how the evening had gone. 

“Tomorrow is our last day here” Delia said sadly not noticing that she had spoken out loud until all eyes fell on her. 

“On this visit at least” came the reply from Liz. “We’re relying on you to bring Patsy home more often.” 

“I promise we will visit as often as we can. Will we see you in London too? It can be a bit of a wild goose chase some days but we can organise our shifts with notice.”

“Absolutely, Charles doesn’t journey down often but I try to have at the very least couple of days at the town house every month.” They settled into talking over their Christmas plans and Liz spoke about the holiday she was planning in the South of France for the following summer. Samuel extended his teasing repertoire to include Delia as well as Patsy and the banter flowed happily amongst the younger members of the family. She wished there was a way of easily including Mai but the woman watched on and appeared happy.

Following dinner Mai and Bertie excused themselves. They discovered that Bertie had flown his Cessna aeroplane all the way from Singapore to England. It had taken six days and as many stops. Although he tried to plan the route to ensure comfortable hotels the last minute organisation meant they had not had an easy time. Bertie also shared that Mai was closer to seven months pregnant which added to her fatigue. That news led to Patsy insisting Bertie take Mai into an ante natal clinic as soon as possible. Earlier in the day Charles had pushed as to Bertie’s plans to marry but Samuel had stepped in and eased the heated debate. Samuel and Charles had argued that it was not just the gentlemanly thing to do but it added to Mai’s protection as well as his own. Bertie’s reluctance to marry was a sore subject and it was the only example Delia had witnessed of the family battening down the hatches on their thoughts and emotions and carrying on as if all was well. Fitz talked with Patsy and Delia listening to stories of their lives in Poplar. He shared some of the details of his research but he noted how quickly Patsy turned tense. For the first time instead of the pair drifting apart Fitz apologised for being an old fool and changed the subject. 

When they turned in for the night it was with combined sadness and relief. It had been a long day and the combination of a rich meal, flowing wine and port, open fires and lively conversation made Delia collapse onto their bed. I feel like Henry the Eighth must have felt after a banquet. It’s lucky we can’t visit too often as I don’t think I could maintain my waist.” Patsy laughed as she pulled Delia up. “Come on, you wouldn’t want to deprive me of sleeping next to you in your rather flattering and scanty nightie would you?” 

When they were dressed for bed and lying next to each other Patsy rolled onto her side and kissed Delia. “Thank you for being so wonderful with my father. He can be a bit of a worrier. He’s an odd ball.” Delia ran her hand down Patsy’s arm until it reached her large strong hands and she threaded their fingers together. 

“He is a lovely gentleman. I hope he liked me. I did think I was rambling on at one point”

“He adored you. Do you think I am very callous not taking better care of him myself?” 

“Not at all Cariad, you love your job and he seems very supportive of your work.”

“He is. He would prefer I stayed at the family town house but we have agreed to disagree on that matter. He has a small staff who look after him you know. A cook and cleaner and a sort of nurse companion called Mrs Bale. He needs a driver now so Mrs Bale also takes him to his appointments and to various libraries. She tries to make sure his health is as good as can be expected. She telephones me once a month with a short debrief but she hadn’t mentioned the tremors. Did you notice?”  
“Yes, his head and left arm. He also seemed a little unsteady when he walked.”

“I can’t visit his house you see. Nearly all of the rooms are given over to his research. Maps, press clippings, even photographs of the camps. We have long agreed that our ways of dealing with the grief are not compatible and he understands.” 

Delia kissed Patsy’s knuckles and held her lips against the taut skin for several long moments. “I shall miss this every night. Talking with you before we sleep. I don’t know how we can go back to you tip-toeing out of my room before Trixie misses you.”

“Well for now we should make the most of this large comfortable bed and guaranteed privacy.” Delia moved forward to kiss Patsy, her hands confident as they drew over the curves of her love. Small moans broke through the kiss as bodes entwined and provided unfamiliar friction. Patsy’s short fingernails scraped down the side of Delia’s breast and ribs, through the fine cotton nightie, and causing an involuntary jerk of her hips and a sharp intake of breath. Patsy stilled reading Delia’s reaction. Their eyes locked and desire burned through them both. Patsy captured Delia’s lip in her own as she lost all conscious control over to passion.


	11. Chapter 11

Breakfast had developed into quite the event as the number of houseguests at Boreton increased. The room was alive with chatter, several conversations happening as several of the table's occupants contributed to more than one exchange at any one time. Patsy sat bare foot and Indian style on her chair eating marmalade on toast and defending the remaining piece from a Welsh thief.

Liz gained everybody's attention by clapping your hands loudly once. "Now, today my Darling family you are all going to join me at the local Christmas fete." Groans reverberated around the table and enthusiasm was absent from all the faces gathered, young and old. "Please don't be under any illusion that that was in any way a request. You all will be suitably dressed and in the drawing room by eleven o'clock. I don't often get the chance to show my family off and as you are all members of the Mount Whitaker family it's your duty to show your faces at local events. Delia and Mai please don't let the immature behaviour of the others could put you off. Often these events are really quite charming." The atmosphere around the dining table shifted somewhat to resemble that of the final meal of those facing the gallows. Delia smiled at the pouting faces of not only Patsy, Samuel and Bertie but also Charles and Fitz.

As the clocks in the house struck eleven the entire family, with the exception of Patsy and Delia, gathered in the drawing room. Liz was just about to walk up to Patsy's room to retrieve the missing couple when they literally ran down the stairs tucking in their clothing and frantically straightening their hair. Samuel and Bertie laughed with raised eyebrows as the Crimson cheeked pair apologise for their tardy arrival. Liz looked both women up and down, both having obviously got re dressed in a hurried and flustered manner. She shook her head. "I suggest you two take a few moments to gather yourselves. You can follow on in your car. We will see you outside the school hall in 15 minutes and you will not under any circumstances get distracted in the meantime."

Patsy and Delia blushed harder if that was in any way possible as the family filed out to the awaiting motorcars. “What must they think Pats? They must think me quite the harlot!” Patsy laughed, not because she wasn’t mortified herself but rather because she caught sight of Delia and herself in the mirror and could see clearly what caused her family’s reactions. Her own red hair was displaced and messy as if she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards; Delia was sporting a rather lovely shade of lipstick however it belonged to Patsy and was visible on her cheeks and neck. They also both looked as if they’d got dressed in a dark. When Delia turned to look in the large mirror over the mantle she was truly torn whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately there was little time for either as they set about fixing their appearance.

Patsy pulled her motorcar into the makeshift car park in the field next to the school. Although she’d grown to love the motorcar and the way it handled she didn’t think she could keep it in Poplar. Two older men waved them to the end of small line of motorcars where Patsy parked. 

One of the parking attendants looked over the car as Patsy and Delia stepped out onto the solidly frozen grass field. The old chap grumbled as Delia checked her appearance one final time in the wing mirror. “If I had a motor like that there is no way I’d let my wife drive it. You want to ask your husband to get you something more suitable for a woman to drive.” 

Patsy bit her tongue to ensure she didn’t say something she would regret. “And you sir are…?”

“I’m just saying that ‘cause that’s a right expensive car you got there and a lot to handle. It might be okay pottering around these quiet lanes but you’d never manager her in Chatterton or the city.”

Patsy offered her arm to Delia who happily accepted. “Thank you for your concern.” 

As the couple started to walk towards the gate they could hear a commotion behind them as the second parking attendant reprimanded the first. “You bloody idiot, do you not know who that was? That there was the young Mount girl. You better hope she don’t find out who you are or you’ll be out on your ear. They’re a very fair family but they won’t stand for small mindedness.”

Patsy smiled softly. “Can I tell you a secret? That right there is the part I quite enjoy.” They both giggled as Patsy shouted back over her shoulder “thank you Mr Platts, do send my regards to Mrs Platts and Richard.”

By the time they had arrived at the school Liz was shaking hands in greeting various members of the community. The local vicar stood on a small step and called for the gathered crowd to hush. He made a small speech to introduce Liz who in turn made a speech of her own before opening the fete. Children ran from all directions as a large number of people happily made their way into the hall. There was a familiarity to this event for Delia. The school looked very similar to the one she herself had attended back in her home village. The decorations were handmade and a lady was collecting money on the door before placing it into a rusty old quality Street tin. Liz sent the group to have a look around the fair and arrange that they were to all meet in the schools small library (turned café) at midday. 

Patsy noticed before anybody else that Mai appeared to be receiving some inquisitive looks from the local children and adults. She knew that nobody would dare say a thing in their presence because most owed their livings in one way or another to the family estate. She decided the best cause of action would be for Delia, Samuel and herself to covertly escort Bertie and Mai around the eclectic stalls. They bought a strip of raffle tickets each from the vicar’s wife as they walked into the quaint hall full of noise and stalls. They started with a tombola table, each taking it in turns to pull a lucky ticket from the wooden barrel. Patsy struggled to explain to Mai the concept but the young girl eagerly watched and quickly understood he game. Delia had already won a bottle of wine, the only one out of their small group to pull a winning ticket. They insisted that Mai have a go. She dipped her elegant small hand to the little door of the drum and pulled out a pink ticket. 150. Mai smiled as she looked over the table for the corresponding number. A cake tin sat with the matching number seller taped to its lid. She looked excitedly at Bertie who placed the cake tin under his arm and gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek.

The next table they came to was covered in second-hand books. Patsy took Delia’s hand and dragged her past the stall in a dramatic fashion proclaiming “we will lose her for hours if she starts looking at books.” White elephant, bric-a-brac, guess the number of sweets in the jar. The parents and children of the school had obviously made an effort in putting on the fete. A large table covered in handmade Christmas decorations caught the eye of Patsy and Delia who picked through the many trinkets on offer. Hand painted tree decorations, knitted stockings to hang by the fire, door wreaths, candles and so much more. They chose three tree decorations and a patchwork stocking each before they paid and complimented the ladies on their crafts. 

A coconut shy had been set up in the corner of the hall, posts painted in red and white stood with coconuts precariously balanced on top. Samuel declared a tournament and paid for each of the party to have three goes each. Bertie went first, aiming at the coconuts and releasing the wooden balls with explosive power and precision. The first ball lurched from the coconut and barely made it wobble. The second sailed just above and hit the backdrop with a loud but dampened thud. The aim of the third ball was true and knocked a good size coconut to the floor summoning a loud cheer from the group. The son of the man running the stall picked up the coconut and handed it to Bertie before placing another on the post. Patsy stood next feeling the weight of the wooden ball. She’d never been good at the coconut shy but she was competitive. The first ball appeared to be a perfect shot however the coconut was stubborn and barely moved. The second hit the same coconut and again dropped to the floor leaving the coconut on its post. The third ball was also well placed enough to move the coconut but still it didn’t drop. Cheers of “hard luck old girl” and “better luck next time” made Patsy pout as Samuel and Mai had their turns. 

Delia finally took hold of the three balls and stood facing the shy. “I’ve never been very good at throwing balls. Pats you were so good. Help me?” Her sweet voice and look made Patsy suspicious yet she stepped forward against her better judgement. “Turn to face the coconuts Deels, look at the one you want to hit and throw!”  
Delia made a face that showed she was unimpressed with her half-hearted tuition. Patsy’s shoulders dropped as she looked apologetically at the chap manning the stall. As she stepped forward to stand just behind Delia the smaller woman stepped back so she was flush against her love. Bertie, Samuel, (and unless she was very much mistaken Mai) chuckled at their new friends antics. “Am I doing it right Pats?” The combination of the faux innocence and the feeling of Delia wiggling her bottom slightly into Patsy made the taller woman blush. Patsy didn’t like the reaction she was receiving from her cousin’s one bit but realised that between the four conspirators she wasn’t going to get away lightly. She decided she would at least try to turn the tables. The stall attendant turned to pour a cup of tea from a battered looking flask which made Patsy smile. She ran her left hand around Delia’s waist and pulled softly, before leaving the hand linger on Delia’s lower abdomen. She moved her right hand to run down Delia’s arm, shamelessly grazing the side of her breast as it travelled, before covering the smaller hand which griped the ball. Patsy looked quickly around, realising that they were well sheltered from the rest of the hall by her tall cousins. She lent close in and whispered “Why miss Busby that was rather a mean trick!” The hot breath and brush of lips on her ear caused a shudder. “There Delia” she said louder she moved Delia’s jelly like arm back until it was poised to throw “I think you’ve learnt your lesson”. Patsy stepped back and watch Delia falter momentarily. Just as a victorious smile formed on Patsy’s face Delia turned slightly and gave her a flirtatious wink. Delia giggled and threw the first wooden ball at its target. It hit hard and on mark sending the coconut rolling off its post. Delia turned around triumphant and laughed. 

Patsy shook her head as she laughed at Delia’s capers. “I feel as though I’ve been swindled!”

“Well I’ve won you a coconut!”

The group talked and teased each other as they moved around the remaining stalls. Delia brought a chocolate sponge cake, some petticoat tail shortbread and a rather delicious looking Bara Brith from the ladies on the cake stall. She hoped Liz would enjoy the chocolate cake and intended to return to Poplar with the tea bread and biscuits. She knew they would be appreciated by Sister Monica Joan. Patsy paid for two small yellow paper flags for the Treasure map and wrote her first name on one and Delia’s on another. She marked them as care of Boreton. She gave Delia her little flag and watched as she strategically placed it on the board in the jungle, near the beach. Patsy placed her own flag in the square adjacent. 

Before they all met the elders Delia displayed her ‘splat the rat’ prowess. “They raise some rare girls in Pembrokeshire!” Patsy said as Samuel awkwardly attempted to mimic Delia’s success. 

Delia linked her arm with Patsy’s. “And don’t you forget it.”

When they reached the school Library Liz was sat alone at a table looking elegant and imperious. The room was charming with small bookcases displaying the colourful covers of reading books, small desks with miniature chairs tucked around the edges and vivid collages on sugar paper pinned to the walls.

They all greeted Liz as they sat around the small table as the matriarch informed them that she had ordered tea and cake. She looked at the smiling group and their few purchases. “I see you have all been getting the local tongues wagging. Well done. Keep them all guessing I say, it keeps everyone on their toes.” Charles and Fitz had excused themselves from the event to go fly fishing which Liz decided was a positive turn of events. The younger generation could be counted on to be seen and admired however her husband and brother were more likely to make amusing yet highly inappropriate comments to anyone in earshot. Three middle aged ladies in floral frocks and aprons approached the table and placed the tea and cakes down for the family. “Excuse me madam me and the girls just wanted to say how nice it is to have such respectable young people up at the big house. Not like some of the rascals you read about getting up to lord knows what. I said to my Cyril, you’re a right good lot and we’re lucky to have you.” 

“Well thank you Mrs..?”

“Mrs Cole Madam. My Cyril is labourer at old Oak Farm.”

“Oh, yes of course Mrs Cole. You have two sons do you not? I’m sure you are as proud of them as I am of my Family”

“That I am madam. If we could be so cheeky, me and the girls were wandering if these two young ladies are going to be officially marrying in soon?” 

Liz could see that the woman knew she was pushing her luck by asking such an uncouth question, yet she smiled warmly. The gossips would be trying to work out the dynamic for days so she thought she’d stir the pot so to speak. “Well Delia here is already family in every way. Mai and Bertie are yet to announce their engagement but I believe that happy occasion will be in the not too distant future.” 

Mrs Cole smiled as she looked at the exotic beauty of Mai and Bertie who was sat imposingly beside her. She then looked at Delia a little more perplexed. She looked to Samuel then back to the beautiful Welsh girl. The family sat silent for several seconds. “Could we trouble you for a little more milk Mrs Cole? Delia does so enjoy a Milky Brew!”

Patsy was elated at her aunt’s game and briefly held Delia’s hand above the table. “That will ensure a record turnout at Christmas Mass Aunt Liz. Vicar Rose will be happy!” 

“Well I have been giving our Christmas plans some thought and I think they may have to do without us at Vicar Rose’s sermon this year. I think we will ring in the changes this year and journey down to London for at least a week. I know you will both be working but I think Mai would benefit from the care the London Hospitals can provide as she gets closer to term.”

There were no objections from anyone and they started excitedly planning the celebrations they could share. Delia was looking forward to this Christmas more than she had any in a long time. She was living with Patsy and although sharing a house with other nurses and nuns wasn’t ideal they were together. Add to that the planned family celebrations with people she and Patsy could be open with this really was shaping up to be unforgettable. 

 

Back at Boreton Patsy and Delia excused themselves to pack their bags. They would leave after breakfast the following day and wanted to organise their luggage. Samuel and Bertie were making their way to the Billiard Room as they passed the pair. “Now girls don’t forget to look in the mirror before you join us at dinner.”

“At least I have a girlfriend Sam” Patsy said as she climbed the stairs with a mortified Delia who flipped her arm in reprimand. “Sorry Deels, I mean I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam.”

 

Charles carved a whole Ham joint at the dinner table as the family utilised Patsy’s interpreter skills to get to know Mai. She seemed to open up more to the large group and described her home Island of Langkawi and her love of the sea. She shared that her family had all passed away and she had moved to Singapore for work when she met Bertie. She was quiet but charming and was obviously a bright girl with considerable potential. Fitz made a drunken toast to Bertie and Mai, then to his daughter and Delia. Both toasts drew as many groans as laughs. Samuel masterfully avoided all enquiries into his own romantic life. 

As the evening progressed Patsy rested her head on Delia’s shoulder and became increasingly quiet. She couldn’t be happier with the relationship Delia had formed with her family and the high regard they all held for each other was clear. From her comfortable position she moved to kiss Delia’s neck. “I love you” she whispered.

 

As Patsy pressed the accelerator the motorcar gathered speed quickly. The roar of the engine could be heard from Boreton as they turned from the drive and onto the road. The journey felt as if it flew by. The country lanes turned to main roads and the main roads turned to motorway. Delia could feel a more relaxed air radiating from the driver and hoped it would last. They talked about their few day and the various members of the family. Patsy embraced the relief of not hiding this side of her life. She could ask Delia for her valued opinion and no longer saw her financial position as such a curse. “I talked with Sam a couple of days ago and asked that a small proportion of my funds be released for my personal use each month. There are still some tax implications but he will deal with that. I would like you to have an allowance also.”

“Patsy, I’m not interested in your money. I was more than happy before I knew you were any more than a nurse”

“If I was a man I would have married you two years ago and I would be providing for you now. I want us both to have a little more freedom. And I have also thought how nice it would be to be able to afford a nice hotel room once in a while?” Patsy blushed as she spoke and her concentration on the road appeared to have doubled.  
Delia couldn’t help the warm buzz bubbling up from within. “I think that would be a lovely idea but I would like some time to think about you giving me money. It just seems a little…”

Patsy cut in. “Deels, you know I’m not exactly comfortable with the extent of it however maybe it’s something we can talk about together? There is one more thing”  
“I never used to feel nervous when you said something like that”

“When you had your accident I phoned the hospital and they would not share any information as I was not close family. I relied on the information your mother would share. It’s not a situation one thinks about before you’re faced with the reality of waiting clueless for small droplets of information about the person you love most in the world. You are my world Deels and I would like to ensure some protection for the future. I would like you to become my power of attorney. It would mean if anything happened to me, if I was taken ill or had an accident you would have a say in my care and they would have to keep you informed. You wouldn’t be shut out as I was.”

Delia took all Patsy was saying in. “Well I would also like you to be mine then too. I missed you even when I didn’t remember you”

“We could try Deels but Samuel seems to think your parents could still override the legal authority of the thing.”

“Well we should try anyway and pray we never need to use it.”

The greening clouds ahead hung heavy in the sky and Patsy turned on the headlamps and windscreen wipers. “It looks like snow.”

Snow did indeed start to fall and although it refused to stick to the road the hedgerows started to adorn an idyllically wintery look. The snow continued as they drove through the city streets. They followed the river from the west until the familiar Poplar streets appeared alive around them. Children played in the light dusting of snow, knitted hats, scarves and mittens adding splashes of colour to the somewhat drab streets. Patsy parked the car at the back to Nannatus near the shed in which Fred stored much of the dilapidated equipment no longer in use. She hoped that the car could remain her unnoticed until she could arrange a more suitable home for her baby. She decided there was no way she was letting her go. 

When they walked into the house through the back door, suitcases and shopping in hand, they found themselves taken aback by the quiet. “I wonder where everyone is” Delia said as she pulled the shortbread and Bara Brith out of a bag and placed them on the kitchen worktop. 

Sister Evangelina walked into the kitchen and looked almost happy to see the young nurses return. “Nurse Mount. Nurse Busby. Good your back. I think every mother in Poplar has decided to go into labour today. We need another midwife at the maternity home if you can bring yourself to change out of those fancy threads.”

Patsy agreed before she helped Delia carry their numerous bags up to their bedrooms. Can we leave the shopping in your room for now Deels? Less questions from Trixie.”

“Of course. Now get yourself ready and I will see you when you get home.”


	12. Chapter 12

It was the last ante natal clinic before Christmas and Patsy busied herself setting out the chairs, screens and equipment needed to check the mothers and babies were the best possible form before the festivities started. Christmas allowed the men two or three days’ rest from their rigorous jobs in the factories and at the docks. But for the women of Poplar the daily routine would be little altered by the festival. The additional demands on the household budget, family visitors, and having their husband’s home would cause some stress and anguish. 

Patsy completed the familiar routine of setting up while lost in thought. She and Delia had been back at Nonnatus House the nearly two weeks. On three occasions they found themselves huddled into the phone box on Whittle Street keeping Liz informed of their shifts and plans for Christmas. Delia’s work pattern was lighter than Patsy’s. The elective surgical ward on which she worked had few patients over Christmas and as such she had a surprising number of days off. Patsy would work more but had three days off approaching. Over Christmas the Sisters were generally very good and would cover the nurses shifts whenever they could, allowing the ladies to have the evenings off. “I’ll pop the kettle on for a cup of tea before the foray begins” Patsy said cheerfully. 

Delia had worked a night shift, the last of three, and arrived home to Nonnatus House later than usual, exhausted and looking forward to a long soak in the tub. She had taken her new library book into the bath and got lost in the pages until the water cooled and she reluctantly got out to dry herself. She padded back to her bedroom and looked at the small travel clock on her bedside table. Ten o’clock. She pulled the curtains together in a futile attempt to block the strong winter sun from streaming in before she curled up in her small bed. She pulled the second pillow she kept tucked under her bed and hugged it. Patsy knew Delia swapped this spare pillow with the one off her own bed every few days and would often leave a short note tucked inside. The pillow smelt of Patsy and the comforting aroma engulfed her as she drifted off to sleep. 

When Delia awoke it was three o’clock. She dressed and wandered down to the Kitchen. Sister Monica Joan was sat close to the television set watching a Weston, the knitting on her lap abandoned to the more enlightening amusement. Delia pulled an apron over her head and tied the tapes tightly around her waist. Placing the oven to preheat she found a heavy ceramic mixing bowl and placed it on the kitchen table. She weighed some flour and tipped it into the bowl. Just as she was to search Mrs B’s cupboards for some sugar a loud knock could be heard coming from the front door. Sister Monica Joan didn’t look away from the grainy moving picture as she incoherently quoted “The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.” 

Delia wiped the flour from her hands and went to answer the door. The large oak door swung open and Delia beamed at the sight of Samuel, Bertie and Mai standing on the steps. “Well this is a lovely surprise.” Delia opened the door fully. “Come on in”

Samuel stepped in first kissing Delia’s cheek as he passed. “Hello Delia. You’re looking very lovely.”

“Samuel” Delia smiled “Hello Bertie, Mai. I hope your well?” Delia closed the door behind the visitors as they stood in the hallway. “Pats is at the ante natal clinic.”

Samuel placed his hands into the deep pockets of his overcoat and pulled the thick fabric around himself. “That’s part of our motive for visiting. Mai hasn’t had a very good experience at the West London with some rather narrow-minded midwives.”

Bertie placed a protective arm around Mai’s shoulders. “I was hoping Patsy would check everything is alright. Mai’s not been herself.”

Delia looked sympathetically at Mai and then broke out into a wide smile. “Well keep your coats on. I’ll take you down to the ante natal clinic now. It’s a drop-in clinic and the doctor will be there too.” Delia disappeared briefly to remove her apron, turn off the oven and retrieve her coat.

They walked over the cobble Poplar streets, Delia arm in arm with Samuel as she led the way and Bertie protectively helping Mai over the icy path behind. As the four walked into the Hall all eyes turned to them. Barbara stood checking some urine samples with Trixie. “You don’t see gentlemen like that in Poplar often. They are awfully handsome. Is that Delia with the tall one?”

Trixie was puzzled. “It is. I thought he was perhaps Patsy’s chap but maybe she just knows him through Delia?” Before they could make any more assumptions Patsy emerged from behind one of the screens and said goodbye to her heavily pregnant patient. 

Patsy spotted the four visitors as soon as she stepped out of the cubicle. She approached them as swiftly as was appropriate returning her patient notes on route. “Well this is a rather nice surprise” she said as she kissed her cousins and Mai before holding Delia’s hand briefly. Delia explained the situation and Patsy, the consummate professional, led Mai for an examination. She got the small women on a bed and excused herself to get another midwife, reassuring Mai that she would be well looked after. 

Nurse Phyllis Crane had joined Trixie and Barbara to update her rolodex. Patsy smiled at Delia who was sat chatting with Samuel and Bertie like they were friends going back years. She walked over to enlist Nurse Cranes help. With a deep breath she joined her colleagues. “I wandered if I could ask for your help. Mai is seven and a half months pregnant and has been given a less than satisfactory examination at the West London.”

“Oh” Trixie said cutting in and looking over her shoulder at Delia and the two men talking. “And you know Mai?”

“Just. I met her when Delia and I had our few days away. She is my cousin’s wife. She has only been in England three weeks and doesn’t speak the language.” Patsy wasn’t sure why she lied about Bertie and Mai already being married but she hoped to reduce as many questions as possible. 

Nurse Crane adjusted her glasses. “Well lead the way Nurse Mount. Let’s show that poor young woman what Midwives should be like and put her mind at rest shall we.”

Patsy introduced Nurse Crane to Mai quietly. “Mai, this is Nurse Crane. Ini adalah Jururawat Crane. Wanita ini akan menjaga anda . dan saya akan kekal bersama anda sepanjang masa.” The older nurse showed no surprise as Patsy talked gracefully to the obviously scared girl. “Nurse Crane may I introduce Mai Whitaker.” 

When a full examination had been completed Phyllis said she would like the doctor to look at Mai. She was concerned that her blood pressure was a little on the high side. Phyllis slipped out to retrieve Doctor Turner leaving Patsy talking to Mai. 

Trixie and Barbara had been watching the events unfold closely. Delia was obviously very comfortable with the men. Trixie had theorised as to the dynamic leaving Barbara feeling flabbergasted by the possibilities Trixie had concocted. Sister Julienne walked past the two distracted nurses. “Is something keeping you from your work Nurse Franklin?”

“Sorry Sister, I was just concerned. Delia has brought Patsy’s cousin and his wife in. Nurse Crane has just asked Doctor Turner to examine her.”

Sister Julienne nodded and walked towards the group, placing her inventory on the desk as she passed. Her warm smile greeted the group. “Good afternoon Nurse Busby, Gentlemen.”

“Good afternoon Sister Julienne. Allow me to introduce Patsy’s cousins Samuel and Bertie Whitaker.” Samuel and Bertie tipped their heads. “Sister Julienne is the sister-in-charge at Nonnatus House.”

“This is a very efficient clinic you run Sister Julienne. And your nurses appear most diligent.” Samuel spoke with a gentle cheek as he motioned to Trixie who looked back at her task when she realised she had become centre of attention. 

Sister Julienne enjoyed the playful manner of Patsy’s cousin and gave an amused smirk. “You gentlemen have caused quite a stir with the nurses and expectant mothers alike. Now which of you is the father to be?”

“I am Sister” Bertie said as he nervously glanced at the cubical that accommodated Mai. 

“Doctor Turner is examining your wife now. I would like to invite you to join us for dinner if you don’t have plans. I’m sure Nurse Mount would like to see you all.”  
Sister Julienne didn’t miss the look Samuel gave Delia, or the affirmative nod he received in return. “We would be delighted Sister. That is most kind of you.”

“Well we have some wonderful news and a celebration is always best shared.” 

Patsy pulled the screen back and walked Mai out. Bertie sprung to greet the pair, his eyes questioning. “All ship shape and Bristol fashion. Mai’s blood pressure is a little on the high side but Doctor Turner has prescribed an anti-hypertensive drug. Baby has a strong heart beat and is growing well.”

Bertie hugged Mai whispering in her ear “Kekasihku”. Patsy felt a wave of emotion as she turned to catch Delia’s eye. Delia informed Patsy of Sister Juliennes invitation. Leaving Patsy to her work and escorting the Whitakers to the Silver Buckle Coffee Bar for drinks. Arm in arm Delia walked once again with Samuel as she tossed a wink at Patsy over her shoulder. 

Trixie appeared next to Patsy with her hands on her hips. “It’s one thing to know you obviously prefer Delia’s company to mine but it’s quite another for you to set her up with your friend. You know I adore tall dark and handsome. Delia always says she doesn’t want a boyfriend and that chap is undeniably gorgeous.” 

Patsy laughed at her friends pouting face. “I don’t set anyone up, it’s a sure way for one to loose friends. Now this little lot isn’t going to clear itself up and let’s get to it shall we?” 

 

Patsy was relieved to wash and change out of her uniform when she returned to Nonnatus. There was no sign of Delia or her cousins so she presumed they had gone for a drink before they attended dinner at the convents table. As she walked down the stair the front door opened releasing a blast of cold air into the hallway. “Well that was rather good timing, I was worried Delia had led you astray”

“Sadly not” Samuel replied as he kissed his cousins cheek. “I think she saves that for you” he whispered teasing his cousin and making her blush. Patsy looked panicked at Samuels’s playful mood. “Don’t worry squirt. I will behave impeccably. And anyway Delia is family, I won’t risk her any more than I would you.”

Trixie’s timing was flawless as she walked past and questioned “Delia is family? Well that was a quick courtship.” She swayed her hips as she walked away to join the sisters and Barbara in the siting room.

Samuel looked puzzled as Patsy shook her head. The penny dropped and he looked mortified. I’m so sorry Patsy if my behaviour has been in any way inappropriate. I just didn’t think. Delia is family. You’ve talked of her for so long, and she mean so much to me because she means so much to you.”

Delia giggled “your mother would have loved that, and for the record I feel exactly the same.”

Sister Julienne called everyone to dinner shortly after Patsy and Delia had introduced Samuel, Bertie and Mai. The residents of Nonnatus were gracious in their welcome and even Sister Evangelina chatted happily with Bertie. As they took their seats Sister Julienne announced that she had some splendid news. “I’ve received news that Nonnatus House is to be the recipient of a rather generous gift of funds from the Mrs Hester and Miss Antonia Mount Foundation”

Patsy felt ice cold, hairs on her neck and arms standing to attention as her breath felt trapped within, building, suffocating. Delia immediately grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. Samuel also noticed his cousin’s reactions and felt a strong pang of guilt that he had not anticipated the foundation name being made public at Nonnatus House. He recovered rapidly “Well that is absolutely fabulous news. Can I ask what the funds will be used for? The clinic appeared very well equipped.” Trixie and Barbara looked from Samuel back to Sister Julienne oblivious and eager for the news. Nurse Crane however had observed not only Patsy’s reactions but also Delia’s response. She took a sip of her drink before giving Patsy an understanding and empathetic look. 

“I wrote to a number of foundation several months ago with an ambitious request for funding. I asked for funding over the next three years to permit the employment of two medical orderlies and one lab technician. I believe the workload of the nursing sisters and the midwives is overextended and I hoped that the employment of support staff would prevent long working hours and improve patient safety. To my delight the trust has agreed.”

The good news was met with cheers and excitement. Samuel and Delia put in performances worthy of an academy award. The evening continued in a pleasant manner although Patsy remained quiet throughout. The sisters and nuns were all interested in Bertie’s adventures in South East Asia and enquired enthusiastically about Mai’s home island of Langkawi. Nurse Crane remained quiet regarding Patsy’s linguistic skill in speaking Malay. She knew that Patsy’s history in the East was traumatic. 

As the nurses announced time for compline Bertie thanked the nuns for their hospitality and said that he too would like to get Mai home following such a long day. Samuel, the more charismatic, thanked the ladies for such charming company. “If you don’t already have plans on Saturday evening I would like you to join us for a small Christmas cocktail party. I’m sure Patsy and Delia would be pleased to have you break the tedium of the usual gang.” Delia blushed at the casual inclusion of her name with Patsy’s. 

Patsy felt a little unsettled by the invitation but smiled. “Of course. It would be lovely if you could join us. Delia and I are going to help my Aunt prepare tomorrow and we will stay overnight as we both have the next three days off. However we would like it very much if you will join us?”

Sister Julienne smiled at the excitement a party invitation could stir. “Thank you for the invitation. It would not be appropriate for the sisters to attend however I’m sure we will happily cover Nurse Gilbert and Nurse Franklins shifts”

Barbara and Trixie were giddy with the news and Phyllis laughed. “I think that is a yes! I will drive us in my motorcar if you can provide me with the address.”

The Whitakers left bidding fair well until Saturday. Bedtime drink in hand the nurses moved to the sitting room and their excitement for the party grew. Patsy pulled her feet under herself innocently positioning her body softly to rest against Delia. She enjoyed watching her friends so excited and in a way it superseded the trepidation she felt towards the unfortunate invitation. They talked of what they should wear, and tried to question Patsy as to what to expect. She deflected the questions as best she could. 

Patsy would introduce Delia to the family townhouse tomorrow and she was already looking forward to being out of Poplar and behind the doors of privacy. Her need to have Delia in her arms had become torturous.


	13. Chapter 13

Breakfast had developed into quite the event as the number of houseguests at Boreton increased. The room was alive with chatter, several conversations happening as several of the table’s occupants contributed to more than one exchange at any one time. Patsy sat bare foot and Indian style on her chair while she ate some marmalade on toast whilst defending the remaining piece from a Welsh thief.   
Liz gained everybody’s attention by clapping your hands loudly once. “Now, today my Darling family you are all going to join me at the local Christmas fate.” Groans reverberated around the table and enthusiasm was absent from all the faces gathered young and old. “Please don’t be under any illusion that that was in any way a request. You all will be suitably dressed and in the drawing room by eleven o’clock. I don’t often get the chance to show my family off and as you are all members of the Mount Whitaker family it’s your duty to show your faces at local events. Delia and Mai please don’t let the immature behaviour of the others could put you off. Often these events are really quite charming.” The feel around the dining table shifted somewhat to resemble that of the final meal of those facing the gallows. Delia smiled at the pouting faces of not only Patsy, Samuel and Bertie but also Charles and Fitz.  
As the clocks in the house struck eleven the entire family gathered in the drawing room with the exception of Patsy and Delia. Liz was just about to walk up to their rooms to retrieve the missing couple when they literally ran down the stairs tucking in their clothing and frantically straightening their hair. Samuel and Bertie laughed with raised eyebrows as the Crimson cheeked pair apologise for their tardy arrival. Liz looked both women up and down, both having obviously got re dressed in a hurried and flustered manner. She shook her head. “I suggest you two take a few moments to gather yourselves. You can follow on in your car. We will see you outside the school hall in 15 minutes and you will not under any circumstances get distracted in the meantime.”   
Patsy and Delia blushed harder if that was in any way possible as the family filed out to the awaiting motorcars. “What must they think Pats? They must think me quite the harlot!” Patsy laughed, not because she wasn’t mortified herself but rather because she caught sight of Delia and herself in the mirror and could see clearly what caused her family’s reactions. Her own red hair was displaced and messy as if she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards; Delia was sporting a rather lovely shade of lipstick however it belonged to Patsy and was visible on her cheeks and neck. They also both looked as if they’d got dressed in a dark. When Delia turned to look in the large mirror over the mantle she was truly torn whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately there was little time for either as they set about fixing their appearance.  
Patsy pulled her motorcar into the makeshift car park in the field next to the school. Although she’d grown to love the motorcar and the way it handled she didn’t think she could keep it in Poplar. Two older men waved them to the end of small line of motorcars where Patsy parked.   
One of the parking attendants looked over the car as Patsy and Delia stepped out onto the solidly frozen grass field. The old chap grumbled as Delia checked her appearance one final time in the wing mirror. “If I had a motor like that there is no way I’d let my wife drive it. You want to ask your husband to get you something more suitable for a woman to drive.”   
Patsy bit her tongue to ensure she didn’t say something she would regret. “And you sir are…?”  
“I’m just saying that ‘cause that’s a right expensive car you got there and a lot to handle. It might be okay pottering around these quiet lanes but you’d never manager her in Chatterton or the city.”  
Patsy offered her arm to Delia who happily accepted. “Thank you for your concern.”   
As the couple started to walk towards the gate they could hear a commotion behind them as the second parking attendant reprimanded the first. “You bloody idiot, do you not know who that was? That there was the young Mount girl. You better hope she don’t find out who you are or you’ll be out on your ear. They’re a very fair family but they won’t stand for small mindedness.”  
Patsy smiled softly. “Can I tell you a secret? That right there is the part I quite enjoy.” They both giggled as Patsy shouted back over her shoulder “thank you Mr Platts, do send my regards to Mrs Platts and Richard.”  
By the time they had arrived at the school Liz was shaking hands in greeting various members of the community. The local vicar stood on a small step and called for the gathered crowd to hush. He made a small speech to introduce Liz who in turn made a speech of her own before opening the fate. Children ran from all directions as a large number of people happily made their way into the hall. There was a familiarity to this event for Delia. The school looked very similar to the one she herself had attended back in her home village. The decorations were handmade and a lady was collecting money on the door before placing it into a rusty old quality Street tin. Liz sent the group to have a look around the fair and arrange that they were to all meet in the schools small library (turned café) at midday.   
Patsy noticed before anybody else that Mai appeared to be receiving some inquisitive looks from the local children and adults. She knew that nobody would dare say a thing in their presence because most owed their livings in one way or another to the family estate. She decided the best cause of action would be for Delia, Samuel and herself to covertly escort Bertie and Mai around the eclectic stalls. They bought a strip of raffle tickets each from the vicar’s wife as they walked into the quaint hall full of noise and stalls. They started with a tombola table, each taking it in turns to pull a lucky ticket from the wooden barrel. Patsy struggled to explain to Mai the concept but the young girl eagerly watched and quickly understood he game. Delia had already won a bottle of wine, the only one out of their small group to pull a winning ticket. They insisted that Mai have a go. She dipped her elegant small hand to the little door of the drum and pulled out a pink ticket. 150. Mai smiled as she looked over the table for the corresponding number. A cake tin sat with the matching number seller taped to its lid. She looked excitedly at Bertie who placed the cake tin under his arm and gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek.  
The next table they came to was covered in second-hand books. Patsy took Delia’s hand and dragged her past the stall in a dramatic fashion proclaiming “we will lose her for hours if she starts looking at books.” White elephant, bric-a-brac, guess the number of sweets in the jar. The parents and children of the school had obviously made an effort in putting on the fate. A large table covered in handmade Christmas decorations caught the eye of Patsy and Delia who picked through the many trinkets on offer. Hand painted tree decorations, knitted stockings to hang by the fire, door wreaths, candles and so much more. They chose three tree decorations and a patchwork stocking each before they paid and complimented the ladies on their crafts.   
A coconut shy had been set up in the corner of the hall, posts painted in red and white stood with coconuts precariously balanced on top. Samuel declared a tournament and paid for each of the party to have three goes each. Bertie went first, aiming at the coconuts and releasing the wooden balls with explosive power and precision. The first ball lurched from the coconut and barely made it wobble. The second sailed just above and hit the backdrop with a loud but dampened thud. The aim of the third ball was true and knocked a good size coconut to the floor summoning a loud cheer from the group. The son of the man running the stall picked up the coconut and handed it to Bertie before placing another on the post. Patsy stood next feeling the weight of the wooden ball. She’d never been good at the coconut shy but she was competitive. The first ball appeared to be a perfect shot however the coconut was stubborn and barely moved. The second hit the same coconut and again dropped to the floor leaving the coconut on its post. The third ball was also well placed enough to move the coconut but still it didn’t drop. Cheers of “hard luck old girl” and “better luck next time” made Patsy pout as Samuel and Mai had their turns.   
Delia finally took hold of the three balls and stood facing the shy. “I’ve never been very good at throwing balls. Pats you were so good. Help me?” Her sweet voice and look made Patsy suspicious yet she stepped forward against her better judgement. “Turn to face the coconuts Deels, look at the one you want to hit and throw!”  
Delia made a face that showed she was unimpressed with her half-hearted tuition. Patsy’s shoulders dropped as she looked apologetically at the chap manning the stall. As she stepped forward to stand just behind Delia the smaller woman stepped back so she was flush against her love. Bertie, Samuel, (and unless she was very much mistaken Mai) chuckled at their new friends antics. “Am I doing it right Pats?” The combination of the faux innocence and the feeling of Delia wiggling her bottom slightly into Patsy made the taller woman blush. Patsy didn’t like the reaction she was receiving from her cousin’s one bit but realised that between the four conspirators she wasn’t going to get away lightly. She decided she would at least try to turn the tables. The stall attendant turned to pour a cup of tea from a battered looking flask which made Patsy smile. She ran her left hand around Delia’s waist and pulled softly, before leaving the hand linger on Delia’s lower abdomen. She moved her right hand to run down Delia’s arm, shamelessly grazing the side of her breast as it travelled, before covering the smaller hand which griped the ball. Patsy looked quickly around, realising that they were well sheltered from the rest of the hall by her tall cousins. She lent close in and whispered “Why miss Busby that was rather a mean trick!” The hot breath and brush of lips on her ear caused a shudder. “There Delia” she said louder she moved Delia’s jelly like arm back until it was poised to throw “I think you’ve learnt your lesson”. Patsy stepped back and watch Delia falter momentarily. Just as a victorious smile formed on Patsy’s face Delia turned slightly and gave her a flirtatious wink. Delia giggled and threw the first wooden ball at its target. It hit hard and on mark sending the coconut rolling off its post. Delia turned around triumphant and laughed.   
Patsy shook her head as she laughed at Delia’s capers. “I feel as though I’ve been swindled!”  
“Well I’ve won you a coconut!”  
The group talked and teased each other as they moved around the remaining stalls. Delia brought a chocolate sponge cake, some petticoat tail shortbread and a rather delicious looking Bara Brith from the ladies on the cake stall. She hoped Liz would enjoy the chocolate cake and intended to return to Poplar with the tea bread and biscuits. She knew they would be appreciated by Sister Monica Joan. Patsy paid for two small yellow paper flags for the Treasure map and wrote her first name on one and Delia’s on another. She marked them as care of Boreton. She gave Delia her little flag and watched as she strategically placed it on the board in the jungle, near the beach. Patsy placed her own flag in the square adjacent.   
Before they all met the elders Delia displayed her ‘splat the rat’ prowess. “They raise some rare girls in Pembrokeshire!” Patsy said as Samuel awkwardly attempted to mimic Delia’s success.   
Delia linked her arm with Patsy’s. “And don’t you forget it.”  
When they reached the school Library Liz was sat alone at a table looking elegant and imperious. The room was charming with small bookcases displaying the colourful covers of reading books, small desks with miniature chairs tucked around the edges and vivid collages on sugar paper pinned to the walls.  
They all greeted Liz as they sat around the small table as the matriarch informed them that she had ordered tea and cake. She looked at the smiling group and their few purchases. “I see you have all been getting the local tongues wagging. Well done. Keep them all guessing I say, it keeps everyone on their toes.” Charles and Fitz had excused themselves from the event to go fly fishing which Liz decided was a positive turn of events. The younger generation could be counted on to be seen and admired however her husband and brother were more likely to make amusing yet highly inappropriate comments to anyone in earshot. Three middle aged ladies in floral frocks and aprons approached the table and placed the tea and cakes down for the family. “Excuse me madam me and the girls just wanted to say how nice it is to have such respectable young people up at the big house. Not like some of the rascals you read about getting up to lord knows what. I said to my Cyril, you’re a right good lot and we’re lucky to have you.”   
“Well thank you Mrs..?”  
“Mrs Cole Madam. My Cyril is labourer at old Oak Farm.”  
“Oh, yes of course Mrs Cole. You have two sons do you not? I’m sure you are as proud of them as I am of my Family”  
“That I am madam. If we could be so cheeky, me and the girls were wandering if these two young ladies are going to be officially marrying in soon?”   
Liz could see that the woman knew she was pushing her luck by asking such an uncouth question, yet she smiled warmly. The gossips would be trying to work out the dynamic for days so she thought she’d stir the pot so to speak. “Well Delia here is already family in every way. Mai and Bertie are yet to announce their engagement but I believe that happy occasion will be in the not too distant future.”   
Mrs Cole smiled as she looked at the exotic beauty of Mai and Bertie who was sat imposingly beside her. She then looked at Delia a little more perplexed. She looked to Samuel then back to the beautiful Welsh girl. The family sat silent for several seconds. “Could we trouble you for a little more milk Mrs Cole? Delia does so enjoy a Milky Brew!”  
Patsy was elated at her aunt’s game and briefly held Delia’s hand above the table. “That will ensure a record turnout at Christmas Mass Aunt Liz. Vicar Rose will be happy!”   
“Well I have been giving our Christmas plans some thought and I think they may have to do without us at Vicar Rose’s sermon this year. I think we will ring in the changes this year and journey down to London for at least a week. I know you will both be working but I think Mai would benefit from the care the London Hospitals can provide as she gets closer to term.”  
There were no objections from anyone and they started excitedly planning the celebrations they could share. Delia was looking forward to this Christmas more than she had any in a long time. She was living with Patsy and although sharing a house with other nurses and nuns wasn’t ideal they were together. Add to that the planned family celebrations with people she and Patsy could be open with this really was shaping up to be unforgettable. 

Back at Boreton Patsy and Delia excused themselves to pack their bags. They would leave after breakfast the following day and wanted to organise their luggage. Samuel and Bertie were making their way to the Billiard Room as they passed the pair. “Now girls don’t forget to look in the mirror before you join us at dinner.”  
“At least I have a girlfriend Sam” Patsy said as she climbed the stairs with a mortified Delia who flipped her arm in reprimand. “Sorry Deels, I mean I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam.”  
Charles carved a whole Ham joint at the dinner table as the family utilised Patsy’s interpreter skills to get to know Mai. She seemed to open up more to the large group and described her home Island of Langkawi and her love of the sea. She shared that her family had all passed away and she had moved to Singapore for work when she met Bertie. She was quiet but charming and was obviously a bright girl with considerable potential. Fitz made a drunken toast to Bertie and Mai, then to his daughter and Delia. Both toasts drew as many groans as laughs. Samuel masterfully avoided all enquiries into his own romantic life.   
As the evening progressed Patsy rested her head on Delia’s shoulder and became increasingly quiet. She couldn’t be happier with the relationship Delia had formed with her family and the high regard they all held for each other was clear. From her comfortable position she moved to kiss Delia’s neck. “I love you” she whispered.

 

As Patsy pressed the accelerator the motorcar gathered speed quickly. The roar of the engine could be heard from Boreton as they turned from the drive and onto the road. The journey felt as if it flew by. The country lanes turned to main roads and the main roads turned to motorway. Delia could feel a more relaxed air radiating from the driver and hoped it would last. They talked about their few day and the various members of the family. Patsy embraced the relief of not hiding this side of her life. She could ask Delia for her valued opinion and no longer saw her financial position as such a curse. “I talked with Sam a couple of days ago and asked that a small proportion of my funds be released for my personal use each month. There are still some tax implications but he will deal with that. I would like you to have an allowance also.”  
“Patsy, I’m not interested in your money. I was more than happy before I knew you were any more than a nurse”  
“If I was a man I would have married you two years ago and I would be providing for you now. I want us both to have a little more freedom. And I have also thought how nice it would be to be able to afford a nice hotel room once in a while?” Patsy blushed as she spoke and her concentration on the road appeared to have doubled.   
Delia couldn’t help the warm buzz bubbling up from within. “I think that would be a lovely idea but I would like some time to think about you giving me money. It just seems a little…”  
Patsy cut in. “Deels, you know I’m not exactly comfortable with the extent of it however maybe it’s something we can talk about together? There is one more thing”  
“I never used to feel nervous when you said something like that”  
“When you had your accident I phoned the hospital and they would not share any information as I was not close family. I relied on the information your mother would share. It’s not a situation one thinks about before you’re faced with the reality of waiting clueless for small droplets of information about the person you love most in the world. You are my world Deels and I would like to ensure some protection for the future. I would like you to become my power of attorney. It would mean if anything happened to me, if I was taken ill or had an accident you would have a say in my care and they would have to keep you informed. You wouldn’t be shut out as I was.”  
Delia took all Patsy was saying in. “Well I would also like you to be mine then too. I missed you even when I didn’t remember you”  
“We could try Deels but Samuel seems to think your parents could still override the legal authority of the thing.”  
“Well we should try anyway and pray we never need to use it.”  
The greening clouds ahead hung heavy in the sky and Patsy turned on the headlamps and windscreen wipers. “It looks like snow.”  
Snow did indeed start to fall and although it refused to stick to the road the hedgerows started to adorn an idyllically wintery look. The snow continued as they drove through the city streets. They followed the river from the west until the familiar Poplar streets appeared alive around them. Children played in the light dusting of snow, knitted hats, scarves and mittens adding splashes of colour to the somewhat drab streets. Patsy parked the car at the back to Nannatus near the shed in which Fred stored much of the dilapidated equipment no longer in use. She hoped that the car could remain her unnoticed until she could arrange a more suitable home for her baby. She decided there was no way she was letting her go.   
When they walked into the house through the back door, suitcases and shopping in hand, they found themselves taken aback by the quiet. “I wonder where everyone is” Delia said as she pulled the shortbread and Bara Brith out of a bag and placed them on the kitchen worktop.   
Sister Evangelina walked into the kitchen and looked almost happy to see the young nurses return. “Nurse Mount. Nurse Busby. Good your back. I think every mother in Poplar has decided to go into labour today. We need another midwife at the maternity home if you can bring yourself to change out of those fancy threads.”  
Patsy agreed before she helped Delia carry their numerous bags up to their bedrooms. Can we leave the shopping in your room for now Deels? Less questions from Trixie.”  
“Of course. Now get yourself ready and I will see you when you get home.”


	14. Chapter 14

Trixie watched as Patsy pulled a few items from her wardrobe and placed them in an overnight bag. “There is something different about you sweetie.”

“Different?” Patsy said somewhat distractedly as she looked through her undergarment draw perplexed. 

“Really Patsy!” Trixie sat elegantly on the end of her bed with a glass of lemonade in hand “Different in a good way. More content?”

Patsy looked up from rummaging, her new pale blue lace knickers hanging from her hand. Trixie was an exceptionally perceptive woman, a trait Patsy felt caused as much hurt as it did benefit to her friend. Trixie tipped her head slightly to the side and eyed Patsy. “You don’t have to say anything sweetie. I’m just happy for you.”

“You know you really are the best sort of friend a girl could have.”

“Well whatever or whoever is making you glow like this, you hang on and don’t ever let go.” And there is was. The sadness hidden so shallowly behind that bubbly façade. 

 

Delia was sat at the table with Barbara and Sister Monica Joan. They were sipping their tea and enjoying buttered bara brith when Patsy arrived chatting with Trixie. “Well you two seem very pleased with yourselves” Delia grinned “Pats your grinning like the cat that got the cream!”

“She’s been a frightful spoil sport Delia. She won’t tell me anything about the party. Mr Whitaker said a cocktail party and I simply don’t have time to buy a new dress.”

Patsy sat next to Delia and picked the corner off her half eaten cake. “Whatever you wear will be lovely. You know full well you have impeccable style.”

“There could be enough bachelors for all us girls. Well apart from you Barbara. You have Tom.”

Patsy was enjoying the manic excitement that had engulfed Trixie. “I’m sure Nurse Crane will be ecstatic.”

Sister Monica Joan picked a forth slice of cake and looked upon it with adoration. “Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.”

 

Patsy stopped her motorcar outside a vast white townhouse in Belgravia Square. The Aston Martin looked far less out of place here on the snow covered Belgravia street than it had in Poplar. “Are you ready darling?”

“After Boreton it’s positively tiny” Delia giggled as she let herself out of the motorcar and looked up at the impressive row of houses. Black railings protected the pavement from the cavernous void in front of the houses visible basement. Stucco textured the masonry, Pediments and pilasters swathed the frontage and Columns stood proudly either side of the Black Door. Half-moon topped windows on the ground floor added to the grandeur and Delia’s eye travelled up seeing an additional three storeys with sash windows. 

Patsy stood at the front door, both of their overnight bags at her feet as she rapped the heavy knocker. Shivering, the biting wind picked up whipping around the square like an angry bear trapped in a pit. “Come along Delia stop craning your neck. You’ll catch your death if you stay out here.”

Delia’s eyes had another feast as she walked into the foyer. Marble floor, grand stairs, paintings to rival the national gallery. The young char that had let the two women into the house stood looking jumpy and suspicious. Patsy left Delia marvelling at the décor and spoke to the young woman with kind authority. “You’re a new addition to the staff here. What is your name?”

“Sarah Rogers miss.”

“I’m Patience Mount and this is Miss Delia Busby. Now we are going to settle into my rooms. Has my aunt Mrs Whitaker arrived yet?”

“No Miss.”

Patsy looked at her wrist watch exasperated. “Mr Godfrey?” 

The lack of response was trying Patsy’s patience. “Sarah, could you ask Mr Godfrey to meet me in the sitting room directly? And Miss Busby and I would like Tea and biscuits.”

Sarah hurried off and Patsy placed the bags back near the foot of the stairs. “Do you mind Deel’s if we speak with Mr Godfrey the Butler before we settle in?”

“Not at all Pats” Delia approached Patsy like a tiger hunting its prey. “Although you’re in a lot of trouble when we get to your room…”

“Delia please!” Patsy voice was unusually high as she blushed, looking warily to the back stairs. 

“Trixie and Barbara wanting to play Monopoly and Gin Rummy every evening,” Delia said slowly as she stalked her prey “you working four nights and me three...”

“Delia”

“And the memory of you between my…”

“Miss Patience, what a pleasure it is to see you looking so well.” The bellowing voice of the butler echoed around the grand hall. 

“Hello Mr Godfrey. I trust you are well?” Patsy and Godfrey passed pleasantries before Delia was introduced to the trusted steward. Ever the efficient manager Patsy asked that Mr Godfrey, Mrs Pryce the Housekeeper and Mrs Graham the head cook meet at four o’clock in the drawing room to run through the plans for the following evening’s party. She hoped that Liz would arrive by that time to take matters into her own hands. 

 

The stairs weren’t steep but they were long and turgid. The first floor rooms were given over to the library, study, music-room and guest bedrooms. The second floor housed the apartments of her uncle and aunt, father, and Samuel. The third floor accommodated the apartments of Ella, Bertie and of course Patsy. Patsy’s rooms consisted of two bedrooms decorated in a similar style to their Boreton counterparts, a rather contemporary sitting room, and a modern bathroom. 

Delia took hold of Patsy’s hand as soon as the taller woman dropped the luggage on the sitting room floor. The eye of the huntress returned and Patsy could swear Delia bewitched her body and soul with that look. The hunger that engulfed them rose rapidly from it slumbering depths and they kissed. Lips, tongues, teeth, probing, caressing and biting. Hands roaming and demanding as their clothing was shed without thought. Two weeks of communal living left them starved and wanting. Patsy ran her hands down Delia’s supple back and gripped her bottom firmly. As Delia’s arms snaked up and around Patsy’s neck the taller woman adjusted her hold and lifted Delia who instinctively wrapped her legs about her lover’s waist. Patsy kissed her, softly at first, and then with a sudden increase of intensity that made her cling to her love as the only solid thing in a dizzy world. She was aware they were moving towards the bedroom as Patsy’s insistent mouth parted her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking sensations she had never known anywhere other than in her lover’s arms. 

 

Delia sat next to Patsy on the chic grey button-backed sofa mirroring her girlfriend’s casually elegant pose. Patsy had introduced her to the three senior members of the household staff as her “particular friend” which she now realised was a sort of code between the family and their most trusted employees. They had all been polite and friendly in their welcome but a little more reserved than the valet and cook at Boreton. 

“Mrs Graham, can I ask about the eats for tomorrow’s party?” The older lady read from a neat notepad listing the intended menu. Quail eggs with celery salt; smoked salmon; curried prawns; tart tatins; Devils on Horseback, the list continued and was extensive. 

Delia tried to sound confident “Mrs Graham, some of our friends will be joining us tomorrow evening and I’m afraid they will have worked much of the day. Would it be possible to include some finger sandwiches or a cheese board? I’m sure they will relish trying the delicious sounding nibbles but they may require something more…” The look she gave briefly to Patsy while she spoke gave away her nerves but it also endeared her to the austere cook.

“Consider it done Miss Busby. I think that a most sensible idea. Do you have any other requests?”

“Not unless you think welsh cake’s would be an appropriate addition” Delia joked “Patsy says they should be kept as a teatime treat but I disagree.” 

“I visited a second cousin in Swansea once and his wife made delicious welsh cakes. It was one of my most pleasant holidays. You come from a very beautiful country” Mr Godfrey said before checking himself and returning the conversation to the impending party. Delia beamed at the older man as the conversation moved on.

“Mr Godfrey are the drinks organised? What have Samuel and my aunt decided to serve?” Patsy was actually enjoying checking through the arrangements, a job she had always loathed before. It was just another task on a long list that was vastly improved by the presence of Delia.

“Your aunt decided on Champagne, Vodka Marini and a Limoncello Collins.”

“I’m sure that will suffice but I would like some Glenlivet offered also.”

As ever when Delia Busby was unsure of the correct way of doing things she simply ploughed on and asked the question. “I’m not sure if it would be possible but a friend of ours attending the party cannot drink Alcohol. Would it be too much to ask you have some lemonade for her?”

“Not at all. If you point out the lady in question I will ensure she is well taken care of.”

“Cherries” Patsy said as she lit a cigarette “Maraschino cherries! Trixie loves the fun of cocktails. Could you dress her drinks up? Make them a little more exotic?”

“As you wish”

Patsy took a long drag. She was so proud of Delia’s thoughtful nature. She never stopped surprising Patsy and to know she would think to ensure her good friend was as comfortable as possible moved her deeply. “Mrs Pryce. Are any of the guests expected to stay overnight?”

“No Miss Patience”

“Perhaps prepare two guest rooms to be on the safe side. We don’t want anyone travelling any real distance with the weather as it is.” 

“Very well. Now, the Christmas tree will be delivered in the morning and will be dressed at midday. I will go to the Covent Garden market myself in the morning and select the cut flowers for the arrangements. The selection over the last few years has been quite spectacular. Do you have any requests regarding colour or flowers?”

Patsy looked to her partner. “Deels? Flowers are your area of expertise.”

“I don’t know much about them though Pats. I wish I did. I just like looking at them.” The smile the two women shared could rival the beauty of any bouquet. 

Mrs Pryce was happy with the Welsh girl’s manner. Samuel and Bertie had entertained female visitors at the house previously. She had never appreciated how those girls walked in like they were the lady of the house, looking at the décor like all their Christmases had come at once. They would demand and interfere. But this young lady, the particular friend of their beloved Patience was warm and modest. Delia brought a happiness to the young mistress. She also decided, right there while watching the smallest gestures and looks between the pair, not only are they a very suitably balanced couple but also Miss Delia would be a fine additional lady to the house. “I never knew much myself until they started bringing the most beautiful flowers into the market from foreign countries and I look an interest. Do you know they come by airfreight on aeroplanes? Can you believe? You can get all sorts of flowers all year round. What colours do you like?”

“Could you get dusky pink roses? I know red is more festive but this house is so beautiful and I think they would suit?” Delia looked from Mrs Pryce to Patsy “and I was given some once and they were the prettiest flowers I’d ever seen.” 

“I think that sounds very good. I will do my upmost to create arrangements around dusky pink roses. If you have a free morning in the New Year I would be very glad to take you and Miss Patience to the market and show you all they have. The market in its self it is very beautiful.” 

There was still no sign of Liz when Patsy and Delia retired for the night. They had spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening exploring the house, and seducing each other into risqué clinches in each room. Samuel had phoned a little after seven and informed Mr Godfrey he would be staying at his club for the evening. Patsy and Delia were not displeased to have the evening to themselves. They may not be alone in the big house but a private bedroom and a handful of staff sleeping on the upper floors was an improvement over a house full of nuns and nurses. 

 

It was late morning when Patsy and Delia pulled themselves from their cosy cocoon beneath the sheets. Sweaty and aching from their passionate morning Delia ran herself a bath while Patsy, wearing only a silk robe, examined the various dresses she left in her wardrobe. She had lots of clothes that she had never taken to Nonnatus because of the limited space in her shared bedroom. There was also little call for a Coco Chanel cocktail dress in Poplar but she never missed any of it.  
By the time Delia and Patsy had made themselves presentable for the day and ventured downstairs it was late morning. The house was alive with activity. Young men carrying furniture from one room to another, glasses getting laid out in a discrete corner of the entrance hall. When they walked into the dining room they expected to find it deserted but instead were delighted to see Liz and Charles sat drinking tea and reading the newspaper. They greeted each other warmly, Delia commenting on Liz’s dress and Patsy enquiring after their journey. 

Charles pressed a small discrete button under the table to alert the staff they required service. “Make yourself comfortable girls. The rest of the house is bloody chaos. Why we need to arrange more seating is beyond me. Keep them standing I say, when their legs begin to ache they can bugger off home.”

The three women talked as Mr Godfrey placed a pot of coffee and a plate of Welsh cakes on the table. “Mrs Graham thought Miss Busby would enjoy a Welsh Cake with her coffee” he said as he tipped his head and retreated from the room. Delia was touched by the gesture and tucked into the sweet treats. She hadn’t realised what an appetite she had built through the morning. 

Liz tried one of the Welsh Cakes and hummed approvingly. “Now, Bertie and Mai have taken themselves off to Oxford to see one of Bertie’s old school friends at the university. Something about him having a wife from Borneo and wanting to meet Mai.”

The afternoon passed quickly in conversation, informing Delia of little facts (and in some cases straight up gossip) on many of the evening’s guests. Following an early dinner they all ascended the stairs, returning to their rooms to dress. 

 

“Are you sure I look alright?” Delia asked as she looked at herself in the mirror and flattened the front of her dress out with her hands.

“You look beautiful as you well know.” Patsy walked behind Delia and slid her arms about the smaller woman as she rested her head on a petite shoulder, looking at their entangled bodies reflecting back. “I shall be the proudest person here tonight. There are so many people I want to introduce you to. I can’t introduce you as I would like nonetheless I have an overwhelming urge to show you off.”

Delia turned in Patsy’s arms. “Really? And what will Trixie, Barbara and Nurse Crane think while you’re ‘showing me off’?”

Patsy bit her lip as she looked upon Delia with a clarity she had barely allowed herself before. “We aren’t doing anything illegal. They are our friends, and I doubt even if they have any suspicions they will question us about it. They will be simply enjoying the party.” Patsy stooped and kissed Delia slowly. Everything went slowly, their lips joined leisurely, and Delia revelled in Patsy’s spirit which was brave and strong and certain. Delia took it into herself, breathing her breath, feeling what she felt. Neither had ever known anything so right. 

“I must say Pats” Delia said against Patsy’s lips as her eyes danced with mischief “you can make a girl feel really quite special when you want to.”

 

Phyllis Crane had insisted Trixie and Barbara were dressed and ready to leave Nonnatus at seven thirty sharp. The drive to Belgravia saw a number of taxi cabs given the inclement weather but generally the traffic was very light. Trixie, one to enjoying making an entrance, had not been pleased by their punctual arrival, however the sting of people descending on the rather grand house made her giddy with anticipation. They followed a rather glamorous couple through the front door into the bubbling atmosphere of the grand hall. Footmen collected their coats before giving a small bow and disappeared with the heavy articles. 

“Welcome” came the smooth yet plummy voice of Liz “you must be Patsy and Delia’s friends?”

Phyllis, never one to be on the back food greeted the host “Good evening. I’m Phillis Crane, this is Miss Beatrix Franklin and Miss Barbaba Gilbert.”

“I’m Elizabeth Whitaker, Patience aunt. Do come through. I’m sure the girls are ready to be saved from the tedious conversation of Mr East. He’s a wonderful man but can rather go on about the state of the railways.”

The drawing room was a vision. A large Christmas tree had been delivered in the early hours of the morning and the dressers had finished placing the candles and hanging the silver and glass decorations by mid-afternoon. Three Large floral arrangements featuring striking dusky pink roses and Protea were incomparable and there scent drifted with a rich and robust perfume. A roaring fire flickered and crackled. A record of Christmas carols from St Pauls Cathedral choir played on a turntable finishing the merry ambience. The three midwives watched as Liz approached Patsy and Delia. 

“Do excuse me Robin could I borrow my niece and Miss Busby…” Leaving no room for comment they slid away from the excruciatingly boring man. “Your friends have arrived” Liz motioned to the three women admiring the room and smelling the scent of the magnificent flowers.

“The flowers are really very beautiful Mrs Whitaker” Trixie said as Patsy and Delia passed familial greetings with their friends. 

“Thank you Miss Franklin, however Mrs Pryce the housekeeper informs me that Delia oversaw the decoration. She has done a marvellous job has she not? Do excuse   
me the Dutch Ambassador has just arrived.” Delia blushed and felt unduly praised but her friends prattled about the wonderful job flowers and how lovely to be allowed to help decorate such a grand place. 

Patsy gestured to a footman who approached with a tray. “Champagne, Limoncello Collins, lemonade or we have a cocktail here that will be very much to your tastes Trixie”

Trixie looked confused at her friend who knew better than to offer her a drink. “Patsy Sweetie, I think I will just have a…”

“Try it Trix. I’m sure you will enjoy it and I know you love the spectacle of cocktails.” The look on Patsy’s face read ‘trust me’ so Trixie tentatively took a sip. Relief and joy flooded her as she stood with the hi ball glass filled with ice and decorated with mint, sliced pear and a cherry. Trixie declared the drink as delicious and recommended it to Phyllis and Barbara. Barbara accepted quite happily but Phyllis opted for a less elaborate Lemonade. 

“Your aunt’s house is beautiful” Trixie said as she looked around people conversing and laughing. Barbara mirrored her compliment and commented that she had rarely seen such a grand Christmas tree. “Sister Monica Joan would enjoy the tree and these rather wonderful h'ordeuvres!”

The five chatted comfortably, Delia and Patsy stood closer than the might otherwise but in no way inappropriately. An older gentleman with greying hair and an impressive bushy handlebar moustache sauntered past their little party. 

Patsy greeted the man immediately. The tall man stood ramrod straight but had a jolly face and air. “Brigadier these are my colleagues Miss Beatrix Franklin, Miss Barbara Gilbert and Ms Phyllis Crane.” The brigadier nodded and smiled at each as they were introduced “And this is my good friend Miss Delia Busby.” The Brigadier bounced on the balls of his feet and beamed at the small welsh lady. “Ladies may I introduce Brigadier-General Clarence Tremblay of the Royal Canadian Air Force. The Brigadier has been a good friend of my uncles for many years.”

The jolly man was charming and sincere. He talked about his new puppy and enquired after life as a midwife in the East end. He shared his love of travelling around the cities of Europe and Patsy subtly included Nurse Cranes Spanish language classes into the conversation. 

"A lady of the world eh, hermosa e inteligente. Bueno estos deben ser mis días de suerte” Phillis blushed despite herself. “Charles has a quite excellent globe in the sitting room. How aboot you join me and I will point out some of the finest towns to visit?” Phyllis accepted his invitation and stepped away talking about Seville.

Trixie passed comment about Nurse Crane receiving more male attention than herself which made the group giggle. Delia hooked her arm through Patsy’s “Well find you a handsome bachelor won’t we Pats!”

The party was a success of rare comfortable chatter. A tall and broad man in his early thirties, with peppered hair and a blue suit tailored in the modern style walked behind Patsy, slung his arm about her neck and kissed her cheek with a grin. “Patsy Mount, surrounded by beautiful women. Now there’s no surprise there.”

Patsy looked around and laughed “David Campbell. I didn’t know you were back in England?”

“I’ve only been back for three weeks. Introduce me.”

Patsy rolled her eyes at David’s zealous brashness toward meeting women. Patsy introduced Trixie and Barbara as she would introduce them to any other acquaintance. When she introduced Delia she found herself territorial and irrational. She ran her hand around Delia’s back and pulled her into her side. Delia had experienced this before with Patsy, although the way her touch lingered and the way she looked into her eyes as she made the introduction was more unashamed than ever before. The atmosphere was palpable. David straightened his tie and looked about the room. “Where’s Sam?”

Delia enjoying the contact with Patsy spoke ensuring her place under a protective wing. “We haven’t seen him. He was at the office but he should have been here hours ago.” 

The party filled out with people young and old, the sound in the room becoming increasingly loud and raucous. Phyllis was more than happy talking with the jovial but cultured Brigadier. He was an open, independent type of man and she enjoyed his company. Trixie and Barbara were the centre of attention not only from the few young (and not so young) bachelors but also some society ladies who were interested in the role of a district midwife in the impoverished part of the city. 

Patsy, with Delia by her side, fulfilled her duty and circulated. She was happy to introduce Delia to many people she had known since her teenage years when she lived with the Whitakers. Many knew Patsy’s story and there was a revered affection for the young nurse. Mrs Benson the widow of a merchant banker who had a fondness for gambling and the company of younger men giggled loudly as she asked when Patsy planned to settle down. She winked at Delia and made a somewhat inappropriate comment which had he two girls scurrying away to the safety of someone a little more sober. Mr and Mrs Hollins talked incessantly about the attributes of their three sons (the disappointment that Patsy didn’t remember meeting their older son five years previous was obvious to all). Mrs Cromwell Jones slurred her way through exchange before she stumbled away to retrieve another Limoncello Collins; Lady Hall with her irritating laugh showed candid support for Patsy and Delia’s relationship. She request they take tea with her daughter who was on a difficult path of self-discovery. Despite her manic air he lady obviously was at a loss of what to do with her youngest daughter. Mrs Goodie an author of romantic novels requested an interview with the pair in preparation for her next book. Patsy was cautious of the request but was composed and polite in declining the request. The guests were all charmed by Delia’s soft humour and Patsy received more than one nod of approval from the eclectic group.

Mr Mackie MacCallan, a Scottish Lecturer at Imperial College was a quiet man in his late thirties. He was the son of Fitzroy Mounts oldest and closest friend. He was an engineer who chose, much as Patsy herself had, to make his own way apart from the family firm. His family were Scottish landowners with interests in banking. He knew about Patsy’s interest in women. He had since he tried to courting her when she was nineteen, and he was happy to see Patsy looking so comfortable with Delia on her arm. The three got lost in chit-chat, Delia enjoying the man’s company and Patsy enjoying Delia’s magnetism. He had some interesting views and appeared to really want to make changes for the good of the world. He asked them for advice about management of his Diabetes and shared that he had given up alcohol to try and manage the condition more successfully. “Patience, who is the blonde lady talking with the brunette and James?”

Patsy looked over her shoulder. This would be a match she would be happy to make but could she break a habit of a lifetime and set them up? Before she decided Delia replied giddy with excitement. “She is our friend Trixie. She is a nurse too. Can we introduce you?”

Patsy and Delia made the introduction and the pair hit it off despite Mackie’s noticeable nerves. They talked as a group and Patsy observed how her friend’s eyes   
drifted to look admiringly at Mackie as he talked about his students and engineering. They all moved to the sofa as the guests began to thin. Conversation flowed and Delia rested her head briefly on Patsy’s shoulder. The movement was subconscious and when she realised what she had done she jerked back hoping Patsy would not be too cross, and that the affectionate act hadn’t been noticed. Her relief was immediate when Patsy smiled at her and softly and held her hand. The few glasses of Champagne she had drank left her uninhibited and she didn’t care what anyone read into the gesture. Mackie shared stories of the youthful adventures he had with Patsy and the Whitakers leaving Barbara wiping a tier of laughter as the other women struggled to control the chuckles erupting. Patsy laughed while trying to protest the embarrassing stories. 

Delia stopped laughing first, abruptly. She saw Samuel walk into the room still wearing his long tweed overcoat, his face drawn and eyes red. Delia gripped Patsy’s hand and the couple stood. “Sam? What’s wrong?” 

Samuel was breaking inside. He dealt with catastrophe and crisis often with the business but now he felt as he did when he heard about his family and the internment camp as a child. Numb, icy cold, scared, confused, nauseated. “Pats, Delia. Where are my parents? There’s been an accident.”


	15. Chapter 15

Patsy sat in silence in her Belgravia bedroom listening to the wearisome sounds of Delia busying herself in the bathroom. They’d had a long and emotionally exhausting night following Samuels’s dramatic arrival at the party. The evening had lost all sounds of laughter and joy, the remaining guests excusing themselves before the tragic news was revealed. Nurse Crane had reassured Patsy that her shifts would be covered and that she was to take what time she needed with her family. Delia had said she would return to Nonnatus in Nurse Crane’s motorcar but Liz and Samuel had both insisted she stay. Patsy was never so grateful to have Delia at her side. It’s funny she thought that she Patsy mount; independent, wilful, anchorite, was so dependent on the small Welsh woman from Pembrokeshire. Was it acceptable to be so reliant on another person? She had spent so much of her life alone. In the camp after her mother and sister died, at boarding school and in a way in the nurse’s home. She had her father, Liz, Charles and her cousins when she returned to England. But she had still felt so desperately lonely. Delia was her rock and she knew the sentiment was reciprocated. 

Samuel had struggled to maintain any composure as he explained that Bertie and Mai had been involved in a motorcar accident. They had both been taken to St Thomas Hospital. He had no other news at that time. He had been contacted at the office after a police officer had found Bertie’s business cards in a brief case. After phoning the hospital he had given the family’s home telephone number and said they would await news. 

The vigil was been long. Mr Godfrey had stayed up and personally saw the family were supplied with tea. Charles stood every half an hour or so and placed another log on the fire, needed or not. The crackle of the fire sounded louder to Delia than usual. The family were in shock and with no words in which to comfort each other they just sat. 

It was past four o’clock in the morning when the shrill bell of the telephone echoed through to the sitting room. Momentarily they had all looked to each other but Patsy rose from the sofa she was sharing with Delia and lifted the heavy black receiver. 

From then the night saw more tears shed and private prays muttered. Bertie was sedated but had no major injuries; a broken arm and a slight concussion. The nurse had asked about if they could shed any light on the pregnant Asian woman who was his passenger. Patsy had, without missing a beat, confirmed her identity as Mrs Mai Whitaker, wife of Bertram (Bertie) Whitaker. In doing so she had identified herself and the Whitakers as Mai’s close family ensuring they could receive updates on her condition and that of the baby. It was arranged that unless they heard from the hospital in the mean time they would arrive there for three o’clock the following afternoon when the doctors would update them as to the couple’s prognosis. Sleep had eluded them all for what remained of the night. The clocks in Belgravia Square had never moved so slowly. Time was too slow for those who waited, filing with fear, already grieving for the unknown. But the sun rose in the sky and the household carried on. They were served breakfast and lunch, both meals pushed about the plate by all, appetite as absent as conversation. 

“Come on Pats” Delia said as she placed her coat over her arm. “We need to be ready to leave for the hospital in five minutes.”

Patsy nodded and stood. She kissed Delia softly “thank you for being here Deels”

 

The Family walked out to the awaiting car, each wrapped warmly in their coats as they huddled against the biting wind. Charles had decided to stay at the house. He had several telephone calls to make and although he didn’t share the nature of the urgent calls nobody questioned his wisdom. 

Samuel sat in the front seat, staring at the passing streets as they weaved their way through London, the electric atmosphere of Christmas shoppers and the elaborate decorations and lights hanging over the streets were just a vague milieu. Liz sat with Patsy and Delia either side of her and she gripped their hands like the dying cling to life. Every movement was silent. They all provided comfort for each other but nothing non-essential passed verbally between them. Silence. 

Delia had worked for two months at St Thomas’s two years beforehand when she had been seconded from The London due to a staffing shortage. She led the family from the car to the bleak hospital reception and from reception to a small room on the second floor. The family room was small and smelt a little of stale smoke and disinfectant. The sofa and arm chair had seen better days, the fabric threadbare and herniating stained orange foam. The framed print on the beige woodchip wall conjured more feeling of despair than the idyllic Mediterranean image should. 

“Would you like a cup of tea? There is a nurse’s station just down the hall. I’m sure they will oblige?” 

Samuel shook his head and then leant forward holding his head in his hands, his long fingers massaging into his scalp. Liz also refused leaving Delia feeling lost and of little use. Time continued to pass slowly. Being back in the hospital environment made Delia and Patsy more guarded in themselves. Just when they desperately wanted to draw comfort from each other’s touch they kept their distance. It may be paranoia but they both knew that the society of hospital staff in London was smaller than one would think and rumours could travel rapidly from one hospital to another. 

The door opened without a knock, two doctors and a nurse outfitted in the dark blue dress of a ward sister entered. The doctors introduced themselves as Mr Clark and Mr Schiazza, the nurse Sister Buxton. Mr Schiazza spoke first. He was the consultant in charge of Bertie’s care and was positive about his condition. He reported that Mr Whitaker was awake and had passed the neurological examination. They would monitor him for another twenty four hours and then he could return home for bed rest. The broken arm had been set but by all accounts it should heal with little to no complications. 

Mr Clark was an arrogant man. He sat with disinterest while Dr Schiazza spoke, lifting his head periodically only to inappropriately ogle Patsy or Delia. When Mr Schiazza excused himself to return to his rounds Mr Clark finally opened his notes. He recited as though like he was reading a script, devoid of emotion or conviction. “Mrs Whitaker was admitted as an emergency case, originally as a non-identified female. She had suffered a head injury and sustained massive internal bleeding. We carried out an emergency caesarean section and removed the child however the internal damage was too severe. She died on the table.”

“Awwoh” came the wail of grief from Liz, Samuel embracing his mother as tears ran from his own eyes. Patsy couldn’t supress her need for Delia and they held on to each other dearly, both shaking as soundless grief rolled from them in waves. 

Patsy closed her tier filled eyes focusing as her own breath came and left slowly, it provided none of the relief that she had come to value from the exercise in the past. When she opened her eyes she watched Mr Clark walk to the door. “And the baby?”

“A girl” he said simply as he left.

“Sister Buxton?” Patsy said with a quivering voice. 

Sister Buxton had to calm herself to ensure she remained professional following Mr Clarke’s appalling behaviour. He was by all accounts an excellent emergency surgeon but his manner was the cause of grief for patients, families and staff alike. “A healthy baby girl weighing six pounds and two ounces. She is in the baby unit and doing very well. She’s a fighter.”

Their sobs were filled for the pain of Bertie’s grief and the loss the baby was yet to know. Pain at the loss of the woman they had only known for three weeks and the relief that her child had survived.

Samuel, was more visibly relieved than the rest. He had to be strong for his brother and niece. “Mother, let’s go and see Bertie. I don’t think I will quite believe he is fine until I see him with my own two eyes. Will you two go to the baby? The poor little thing all alone. Make sure she’s alright?”

 

Patsy led Delia onto the post-natal ward, following the blue signs through the maze of corridors. The maternity and post-natal unit should have been so familiar to her, an almost exact replica of The London however she felt foreign and unsure. Delia took Patsy’s arm as they waited for a nurse by the neat nurse’s station desk. They had not arrived more than a minute before a rotund blond midwife approached. “Can I help you ladies? You’re too early for visiting I’m afraid.”

Delia greeted the nurse and introduced themselves. “We’re here to see Baby Whitaker”

“And can I ask what relation you are to the baby?”

Patsy in her most authorities tone replied “We’re her aunts”

They were led to a room which contained eight plastic bassinets. Only three had babies in them, two of which were sleeping and one crying almost quietly. Patsy walked in first, closely followed by Delia who had explained to the nurse that Patsy was a community midwife. Patsy knew the crying child was her niece, the bawling sound was filled with an unknown grief. She checked the board on the bassinet ‘Baby Whitaker. Mother Diseased.’ She bent over the bassinet and scooped the baby into her well-practiced arms, the blanket that swaddled her little body a little looser than she would like. She cradled the baby, her hands feeling larger than usual with the tiny being contained so secure. She lifted the baby’s head to her lips and kissed her crown tenderly. She couldn’t speak. She wanted so desperately to whisper calming words to the unsettled baby but she couldn’t make any words bypass the lump that felt to be growing in her throat.

Delia placed her own kiss on the baby’s head “hello beautiful girl. Your safely in your Aunt Patsy’s arms and you tad is just a little ways away but he’s here. And so is your nain and your uncle Sam. You are a much loved little baby.” Patsy softly swayed the bundle as Delia discretely held her hand against Patsy’s supporting the baby’s head. Delia hummed and Patsy fought back the tiers that threatened to fall on the precious and beautiful face of the baby. 

The couple embraced the baby for over an hour, taking it in turns to hold the little girl close, both desperate she feel the love they already had for her. After the first quarter of an hour the baby settled and had remained soundly asleep since. Nurses came and went, checking the other two babies who barely murmured and checking they had what they needed. 

“Rwy'n mewn cariad â eich modryb. Ac mae'r ddau ohonom yn caru chi.”

Patsy had always found comfort in Delia’s Welsh mutterings, the lyrical tone melodic through her voice, as velvety as the babies own soft cheek. “And what is your aunt telling you little one?” Her own whisper sang through the quiet room. 

Delia looked at the small viewing window on the far side of the room before she quickly and cautiously kissed her love’s lips. “I told her I'm in love with her aunt” She ran her thumb over Patsy’s lips removing the small smudge of lipstick. “And that we both love her so very much.” 

 

Liz stepped into the room, the door shutting silently behind her. “Is this my granddaughter?” 

“It is indeed. Meet Baby Whitaker” Patsy held the baby up to her aunt who took her unsteadily into her arms. 

“Hello, aren’t you just the most beautiful little girl.” Liz looked lovingly at the baby but appeared uneasy. Delia guided her to a rocking chair in the corner of the room. She sat and looked at Delia in thanks. 

Patsy adjusted where the blanket had loosened further exposing the baby’s wrinkled foot. “How is Bertie?” 

“Heartbroken but physically he seems fine. He’s eager to get home. He’s also eager for the baby to be out of the hospital too. He’s talking of a Mara and evil spirits. Could it be the pain relief making him ramble so?”

“They may well, although with a closed fracture it isn’t standard to give strong pain medication. His concussion may be causing delusions.” 

The conversation about Bertie’s recovery pattered out to the now familiar silence. The three woman focused on the sleeping baby. “I’m going to need your help girls. I feel awful but it never occurred to me I would need to buy things for the baby. I presumed that Bertie and Mai…” Liz hugged the baby closer. “I spoke with Sister Buxton on my way in. They say the baby is healthy and we can take her home when we are ready. I think word has spread that you are a midwife Patience.” Then the silence came again. Delia stood and walked out of the room, Patsy watching her go and closing he eyes to the pain.

Delia hadn’t been out of the room for many minutes before she returned with a small note pad and pencil. 

“Right, First things first. What does a baby need? Pats?”

Patsy stammered, she knew this advice like she knew the back of her hand but looking at the hapless infant she was lost. “Napkins, we usually recommend a mother buys at least six but put two dozen on the list; bottles, put down half a dozen; Miltons Sterilising tablets and bottle bucket; formula; vests and clothing; blankets; a cot…” Patsy looked at her aunt and then Delia. “She needs so much and its Christmas Eve today. God, I hadn’t even remembered.” 

“I think you know some people that may be able to help cariad! What would she need tonight?”

“Napkins, a bottle and formula, a blanket and a cot”

“Patience, there is a Moses Basket at the house. It was Samuels so it’s rather old but would it be ok? It’s been in my bedroom. I could never bring myself to get rid.”

“It would but…”

“I’m sure the staff here can provide formula and some napkins Cariad?”

Liz and Delia both looked to Patsy. She was never sure why she was often the one to make the final decision. The baby did appear healthy and the meagre supplies they could muster would be more than many families in Poplar had. They would take the baby back to a warm clean house, full of love. She looked at the slumbering baby. She had always believed that home was the best place for a new born baby. Their world had turned into a whirlwind. She felt as though she was caught in a strong current dragging her, throwing her out to sea. But there was Delia, looking at her with those eyes. Eyes that look at her as though she can do anything. If she was caught in a current she knew she had her rock to cling on to. “I will go and speak with Sister Buxton. If they can supply us some napkins and formula we will take her home with us tonight. It’s past seven already and I think we are all in need of rest.”

 

Patsy curled around Delia in their bed. “Did you phone the London?”

Delia snuggled into Patsy’s chest. It felt so long since they were in this position at she felt as though the intimate embrace rejuvenated her like the sun did the flowers. “I told them I had suffered a family bereavement. I have four days compassionate leave.”

“Thank you for everything Deels” Patsy said as she brushed a stray hair away from her Delia’s eye. “I love you so very much.”

“And I love you but hush now cariad. Sleep. The morning will arrive before we are ready and I think we face a busy day.”

Patsy kissed Delia tenderly, rejoicing in the comfort of her lovers arms. “Merry Christmas Deels.”

“Merry Christmas Pats.”


	16. Chapter 16

I've not re-read this chapter through as much as I should have but I wanted to post it while I could today. Apologies if is a bit sketchy with the editing.

 

The heavy knocker drummed against the wooden door, echoing about the abandoned street like a whisper in the national gallery. The dusting of snow that had decorated Poplar for the past week had blown to gather on the door steps forming small crisp white mounds like salt in a cellar. The morning appeared colder than it actually was, the chill rising from the frozen ground and settling into the bones of people young and old. Patsy and Delia stood huddled, the baby swaddled in two warm blankets and held close by Delia. The image for any passer-by looked distinctly like a scene from gospel of Luke or Matthew. Two figures bundled in thick winter coats, sheltering themselves and a small infant from the elements, awaiting admittance into a safe harbour for charity.

They had left the town house at ten o’clock that morning, the household still moving yet oddly still, grief and joy felt in equal measure, conflicting emotions drawing out guilt and pain. Liz, still dressed in her nightgown, a pink robe hanging from her shoulders, and crying baby in her arms had knocked on their bedroom door a little after dawn that morning. She had looked done in. The baby it emerged, had barely settled all night and Liz was quite at her wits end. Patsy, dressed only an elaborately patterned green and gold towelling bath robe ushered her aunt into the room and carefully took the baby from her arms. Delia wrapped the bed sheets about herself, clutching the linens in a way to preserve the modesty of the nakedness. Embarrassed being caught in state of undress, in the intimate surroundings of Patsy’s bed her cheeks blushed crimson and her heart raced. What had patsy been thinking? As Patsy carried the little girl to the bed placing her gently next to Delia before perching herself on the edge of the mattress she realised she’s not given Delia naked in bed a second thought. Patsy was so comfortable here, with her here, that she hadn’t given their apparel, or lack thereof a second thought.

Patsy examined the baby, her hands moving like a maestro conducting an orchestra; fluid, exact, purposeful. She had asked her aunt questions about feeding, temperature and soiled napkins. Everything her aunt reported was exactly as one would expect in a new-born infant. Appearing again unsteady on her feet, Delia encourage the exhausted older woman to sit on the single armchair under the snow framed window. “Please Liz sit down, you look exhausted. Just pop those clothes on the floor. They’re to be laundered anyhow.” Liz had done as requested and sank into the feather cushioned chair, defeated and numb. Patsy, efficient perfectionist that she was folded the soft crocheted blanket around the murmuring baby, tucking and rolling to ensure the tiny human inside felt entirely cocooned in safety. She gingerly lifted the nameless little girl and past her to Delia who without thinking released her tight grip on her modesty and took the baby into her embrace.

“I’m going to dress and then I think Delia and I will visit Nonnatus House for supplies. I would like to take the baby with us, a second opinion from Trixie and Nurse Crane couldn’t go amiss either.”

Liz made to contend the plan but was soon put in her place by her caring Niece. “Liz you really should try and get some sleep, Bertie’s going to need you just as much of this little bundle does and you’ll be absolutely no use to anyone if you’re down in a ruck.”

The baby seemed to settle against the partially exposed skin of Delia’s chest, her uneasiness calming as Delia’s own heart rate steadied to a normal beat. As Patsy walked away to the bathroom Delia looked at Liz’s small frame in the armchair. She had grown to adore the women over the past month. She had never given in-laws much thought. Patsy had previously been so closed to the mention of family that she supposed deep down she never thought she would have any. Or if Patsy did have the odd family member dotted about that they wouldn’t acknowledge her just as her own mother struggled to acknowledge her relationship with Patsy. But in a short space of time she had grown to deeply care for and even love Patsy family. Their easy accepting natures and the love they showed each other was hard not to be struck by. She was worried about Liz. Grief she knew did incongruously physical things to people. She softly encouraged Liz to take to her own bed, promising that she and Patsy would take care of the baby and all the required provisions. She enquired as to Liz’s plans for visiting Bertie that afternoon and they agreed they would meet back at the house for the evening. No mention was made of it being Christmas, of a planned Christmas feast. Patsy had told her, just the week past, that Liz insisted all household staff had a week’s leave from Christmas day and that Liz always cooked their family feast herself. They must be a rare sort of family Delia thought. Her parents, well her mother mainly, were that non to rare breed of socialist snobs. They thought themselves quite a bit better than many folks but resented people with fortune or influence. She had always heard tales of the heartless rich taking advantage of the honest working man for their own gains, but here she couldn’t see any malice in this family. 

Delia shivered as she held the baby tight in her arms, the cold air finding her more easily than it ever had in the past. Patsy pulled Delia into her own body trying to protect the two precious girls from the nipping air. A muffled and familiar clop clop clop echoed from the other side of the door, and Patsy couldn’t believe that it was only now that she realised she made no preparation on how to explain the situation to her dear friends and colleagues. As the door opened she was relieved to see the warm but questioning look of Trixie. “Well, there has either been a second Christmas miracle or you’re about to regale us with quite the story I think?”

Patsy and Delia stepped through the door as Trixie spoke, relieved to be in the warmth of Nonnatus House. Delia spoke first, looking at the slumbering baby as she did. “We’ve come to ask some help. This is Patsy’s…” She looked at Patsy, what was the baby to her? Niece? Cousin? Second cousin? She’d never understood the correct terminology for extended family members. She herself had many cousins but they weren’t simply the offspring of her uncle and aunt. They were the offspring of her parent’s cousins, her grandfather’s brother’s great-grandchildren, even the children of her mother’s closest friends. “This little girl is the daughter of Patsy’s cousin Bertie and his late wife Mai.”

“Oh you poor things. Come on through sweeties I think we going to need a sit down a cup of tea for this.”

They were greeted by all the residents of Nonnatus House who were sat around the dining table following Christmas morning mass. Conversation, which had once been flowing ceased like a train applying the breaks, the chattering sound stopping a moment later than the movement of mouths. Sister Julienne true to form greeted the couple with a warm smile “Nurse Mount, Nurse Busby. We were quite concerned we will going to miss you both today. You’d been in our thoughts and of course our prayers.”

The table came quietly alive as Delia and Patsy took their usual seats together opposite Nurse Crane. Delia sat with the baby and Patsy had quite subconsciously placed her own arm over the back of Delia’s chair in quite the protective manner. Tea was poured and Patsy explained to the gathered masses the tragic series of events. She shared how she and Delia, along with the rest of her family, had only met Mai three weeks before. She explained that her cousin had flown all the way from Southeast Asia with his pregnant wife who was native of a small island community. She repeated much of what they’ve been told in the hospital about the condition Mai was in when she was bought in by ambulance, and the recovery that Bertie was expected to make. 

“Well you just say the word and I’m sure we’ll all be more than pleased to do what we can.” Patsy had grown to find a deep comfort in the northern lilt of Phyllis Crane’s voice. “Such an awful little start for that baby, although I’m sure your family will do a grand job of making sure she is loved and looked after.”

As if on cue the baby started to fuss, her small mouth searching and murmuring. Delia looked to Patsy who bent her little fingers interphalangeal joint and presented the knuckle to the baby’s lips. She looked back to Nurse Crane and Sister Julienne in turn “this is part of our reason for visiting” she said with a lopsided grimace “it doesn’t appear Bertie or Mai have purchased any supplies. St Thomas’s provided us with a small sample of milk formula and three napkins but with it being Christmas we are quite at a loss.”

Sister Julienne nodded her head slowly and thoughtfully “Say no more. I’m sure between us we can find everything you need. Now nurse Gilbert could you retrieve some milk formula, a bottle and a packet of Milton’s from the store. Nurse Franklin could you place the kettle on and oversee making up some milk for baby.”

Patsy and Delia were in no way surprised that the warm welcome and freely offered help but it still touch them deeply. Sister Julienne, always one to ensure any job was done correctly, continued to delegate. “Sister Mary Cynthia, could you go over to Fred and Mrs Buckle and request their assistance. Sister Evangeline…”

“Don’t say another word Sister, I shall find this beautiful little baby some clothes and blankets in the hobby craft box. Nurse Mount has done a wonderful job of keeping her wrapped up I must say. Now let’s see what we can find her shall we”

“Sister Winifred, could you go and look through the landing store cupboard. Nurse Noakes left Freddie’s cot and mattress with us for safe keeping but I’m sure she would happily offer it up under the circumstance. The mattress should her there and I will ask Fred to find the cot frame.”

Suddenly the table was bereft, with only Sister Julienne, Sister Monica Joan, and Nurse Crane remaining. Patsy broached Nurse Crane and requested she check the baby fully to ensure she herself hadn’t missed anything with the little girl’s health. It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in her own ability but rather the emotional strain of the past two days had left her wanting to take no chances and double check. “I’ll have a good look at her now.”

Just as they stood Fred and Violet buckle entered the house with an air of Christmas cheer as you’d expect from a joyous couple. Sister Mary Cynthia and explained the situation and they have arrived prepared to help, Violet with her haberdashery shop key hanging from a small piece of ribbon in her hand. After a brief conversation and a lot of cooing from both Buckles Patsy followed Violet out into the cold winter Sun and dredged across to her small shop leaving Delia with Sister Julienne and Nurse Crane to examining the baby.

The sun shining in the bright blue sky lifted the atmosphere between the imposing grey Poplar buildings. Snow was falling lightly but nothing significant was sticking to the cobbled street. Violet unlocked the shop door and they entered with a ring of the Bell. “Now let’s see what we can find for that beautiful little girl.”

Patsy had no idea where it came from but as the door to the shop clipped closed her emotional floodwalls burst and she was overcome with grief. The hot tears running from her eyes seemed to soak her, she struggled for breath and her entire body quaked. “Oh you dear sweet girl Nurse Mount. Come here.” Patsy was pulled into the maternal embrace for Mrs Buckle, the shorted woman manhandling her tall frame so she could pull the young women into herself. “You’ve been trying to be too strong for everyone haven’t you. Sometimes we have to let those we love be strong for us.” Patsy was wrecked with emotion. It wasn’t that she had ben purposefully withholding but rather it had crept up on her like the shadows of darkness in a late afternoon. “My Fred says your Nurse Busby is a smasher. Let her look after you Nurse Mount. Your family will need you both.”

Patsy felt the warmth from Violets words and actions and nodded against the elaborate floral print fabric of her dress. Violet reached for a small basket on the counter and handed Patsy a soft white hankie with a daffodil embroidered on the corner. The flower didn’t go unmissed by either woman and they both smiled. “Now then, let me see…”

Violet moved about the shop pulling out boxes and baskets from every nook and cranny. A pile of items began to grow on the counter. Cotton Napkins, nappy pins, two knitted bonnets and some cotton booties, two white baby grows, muslin squares and many small items Patsy had quite overlooked. “What do I owe?” Patsy asked quietly still mortified at her earlier outburst. Violet protested her paying saying they could sort out the payment in the New Year but Patsy pulled a burgundy red leather covered cheque book from her deep coat pockets. She opened the book and borrowed a pen from Violets counter. “Please Mrs Buckle?”

Violet, jotted figures on a small invoice duplicate pad, the scribe nonsensical to anyone but the shop keeper. The older lady looked almost guilty when she read the total but Patsy wrote the cheque without any hesitation. She tore the paper from the book, her thumb well practiced in keeping the edge from ripping awkwardly.

“Coutts?” Violet asked as she looked at the neat handwriting on the thickly embossed paper. “That’s the Queens Bank isn’t it? Well I never.” Patsy blushed at the rambling women, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed. “My Fred said there has been a very fancy automobile parked behind Nonnatus this past week or so. He thought it was some sort of gangster setting up a racket in Poplar. He's had the Civil Defence Corps watching it!” She looked at Patsy waiting for confirmation of her theory but Patsy looked back at her like a terrified like an animal caught in a hunter’s scope.

Patsy cursed herself. This was the start of the thread she had always feared. The start of questions. The start of prying eyes. If only her name wasn’t printed in the book. If only she had stuck to her guns and had Samuel remove the car. These sorts of lapses in judgment were too risky for herself and Delia. Would denying any knowledge help? “Oh, the motorcar? It belongs to my cousin. I’ve had rather a lot of fun with it. I rather like the idea of a mini but I’m a little on the tall side and Midwifery pay doesn’t quite stretch to more than a bicycle.” She laughed nervously.

Mrs Buckle rubbed Patsy’s arm in her maternal manner. “Well you just keep working hard and save. Or a pretty girl like you will meet Mr Right and he can drive you around.” Violet tittered to herself as she helped Patsy carry her purchases out to the conspicuous vehicle.

 

“Nurse Mount” sister Julienne called as Patsy walked back into the convent. “I want you to know that we will endeavour to cover your workload until the New Year. It’s important you have time to support you family under these tragic circumstance. But I do need to ask you if you could attend the clinic tomorrow? The District rounds need our attention leaving only Nurse Franklin and Nurse Gilbert at the clinic?”

“Of course Sister. And thank you for everything you’re doing.”

“We’re family here at Nonnatus Nurse Mount. We may have only met your cousin and his wife briefly but we’ve all been touched by the sad situation.”

 

Patsy and Delia lay that night facing each other, tracing the outlines of each other’s faces with their fingers until their fingers entwined and came to rest on the pillow between them. Patsy didn’t want to re-live the fear that she had experienced in Mrs Buckles shop earlier in the day by regaling Delia with the tale but she couldn’t shift the feelings it had summoned. Part of her life left so natural, so free, and so whole. Could she return to a life of hidden love and lies? “I picked up your Christmas Gift when I retrieved my uniform” Patsy said as she toed Delia’s calf, running her foot up and down the smooth skin.

“Oh Pats, I didn’t think…”

“You had your hands a little full. It’s in my bag down there but I could just tell you.” Delia placed a soft kiss against Patsy’s lips as the redhead rolled to positon herself above the shorter woman. “I’ve booked us a week’s holiday in Paris in April.”

Delia’s eyes grew wide and she rambled quickly and excitedly. “It’s too much and I don’t have a passport. I’ve never been abroad before.”

“I’ve booked for April so we have time to organise you a passport and book time off work. What do you think?”

“Pats…” Delia couldn’t help herself as she pulled Patsy down so as much of their bodies as possible were connected and feeling. She was overwhelmed and as words failed her she relied on a more physical manifestation of gratitude. 

 

It had only been a few days since Patsy was last in her uniform and nursing, but she had missed the busy tasks of the clinic. Woman and babies lining up for reassurance that they were ‘normal’ and developing as they should be. “Mrs Perkins, let’s see how your coming along shall we.” Patsy led the heavily pregnant lady away from the hard plastic seating that split the hall. She had always enjoyed the clinic element of her job. She enjoyed the district rounds but at the clinic she was kept consistently busy and got to exercise her efficiency. She enjoyed the varied woman who sought help and it was almost with a feeling of disappointment that the clinic this day was much quieter than usual. It was because it was Boxing Day she supposed and most woman, unless they were very far along or had a very fussy baby, would be with their families enjoying their time together. The examinations themselves were second nature but that didn’t mean Patsy could or would become complacent. Every action, every echo through the Pinard, every reading or pigment change raced through her mind. Calculating, analysing, diagnosing and reassuring. It filled her and distracted her.

Delia hoped Patsy wouldn’t be upset with her. The morning had been long and no matter what she or Liz tried the baby wouldn’t settle. Bertie was in the house when they had returned from Poplar the day before and appeared to be physically well but as was expected he was subdued and withdrawn. This morning he was rattled and distressed by the crying child. He refused to see her and even the wailing sounds from rooms away plunged him into a hysterical state. Liz tried all she could. She asked him to hold the baby, to feed her, even to think of a name but when he wasn’t shouting and throwing anything near at the flock wallpaper he shut down entirely. Delia suggested she take the baby to the clinic more as an excuse to take the baby out of the suddenly repressive house than for any medical need. Delia had taken three buses to weave across London, keeping the baby snuggled into her throughout the journey. She had narrated facts about the different sights and landmarks, well the few she knew. She was unsure if it was the steady patter of her mindless chatter or the motion of the bus that calmed the baby but she was relieved when the unsettled murmurs faded and the baby drifted to sleep. The bus was quiet, some couples and families traveling between celebrations but in no way was it like the usual hustle and bustle of the London buses. Poplar too was quiet. Two elderly ladies had stopped to coo at the new-born and congratulate Delia. She felt somewhat guilty for not correcting their assumptions. 

“Delia!” Trixie called as soon as she pushed through the swing doors. “Is everything alright?”

“Hello Trixie, we’ve just come to see if Aunty Patsy is nearly finished. Some ones had a bit of an unsettled morning.”

“Oh sweetie” Trixie said as she peeked at the babies now restful face. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course. I’m convinced she becomes heavier by the minute.” Delia looked around the room. Two women were sat chatting with their toddler sons playing at their feet, and a young girl, who couldn’t have been much more than sixteen or seventeen, sat nervously on her own at the other end of the seating. Barbara bundled her most recent patient away with two bottles of rosehip syrup and a bar of carbolic soap.

“Hello Delia. This little lady is looking very well. Did she settle last night?”

Delia explained that Patsy’s aunt had another trying night with the child but didn’t share any of the issues Bertie’s discharge from the hospital had caused. I have one more patient and then I’m ready for home and a nice cup of tea with a piece of Mrs B’s Christmas cake. Will you join us?”

“Oh do Delia. Yesterday was such a blur and the sisters won’t be finished from their rounds for another two or three hours. We can have a catch up. We’ve missed you both these last few days.” Trixie swayed as she spoke, her focus on the baby far more than it was on Delia. 

Handing the baby back to Delia Trixie called one of the chatting women through to a cubicle with her toddler son. Barbara took the pregnant teenager into another cubicle, her bubbly personality drawing a smile albeit timid. Trixie’s patient’s friend walked out with a tantrum throwing son. She must have just been killing some time before heading home Delia thought, realising she herself was guilty of the same thing today.

“Well Mrs Perkins I think we will be seeing you rather soon” Patsy said to the grateful woman as they emerged from the cubicle. Waving her off Patsy saw Delia sat on the chairs with the baby, whispering to the small child with a dopy smile on her face. Patsy looked around the large hall which was strangely vacant. She could hear the muffled sounds of Trixie and Barbara with their patients. She stood and watched Delia. What she would give to walk over and take her into her arms and kiss her. But that wasn’t possible. She walked over to Delia, a lopsided grin in place at the adorable picture before her.

“Well this is a lovely surprise. My two favourite girls coming to see me. Is everything alright?”

“Hello Pats” Delia stood. She looked around the room and briefly back over her shoulder toward the door. She pecked Patsy’s lips quickly before biting her own. Patsy grinned shyly and slid her arm around Delia’s waist. She looked down at the baby and back to Delia. “Everything is fine. Bertie was having a difficult morning and this little lady was distressing him so I thought we would come and find you.”

Patsy didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She ran her hand over the crown of the baby’s head and kissed her forehead.

“Trixie has asked us to go back to Nonnatus. I think she’s really been missing you the past few days.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Delia watched the three midwives methodically tidy away the clinic. She tried to help but with her arms literally full she could do little more than watch and chatter with her friends. After fifteen minutes of logical activity they headed back to Nonnatus. As they walked out into the cold afternoon Patsy felt more unity. She had opened herself up to her family with Delia by her side and she had never felt so much belonging. Now with Trixie and Barbara chatting to Delia so happily she realised that she was truly lucky to have such friends. But could they ever accept them as a couple? She didn’t want, no she couldn’t go back to shrouding her life in secrecy as she had just a month before.


	17. Chapter 17

Barbara sat upon a gothic style side chair that Patsy had dragged from the landing outside her shared bedroom. Patsy had placed the baby into her arms before slipping off to call her aunt so as to inform her of their prolonged stay and to help Delia bring the tea tray up from the kitchen. Trixie had requested that they sit in the twin bedroom to chat before she excused herself away to the communal bathroom to complete her post-work ritual of cleansing away the worn makeup; the plethora of aromas one gathered through the day; and the general feel of grunge that could cling to every part of the body like bark to a tree. Patsy knew the bedroom was a sanctuary for Trixie, a safe place where she could relax. Patsy had removed the few half drank bottles of Glenlivit, Booths Dry Gin and Drambuie weeks before finding a new home for them in a small cupboard in Delia’s room. It was their space. Away from the sensitivities of the Sisters and their rules. 

Delia found the dented and tarnished Queen’s Coronation biscuit barrel and placed four digestive biscuits on a plate. The tea lay waiting in the warmed pot as she set the large wood tray with the cups, milk jug and sugar bowl. 

Patsy walked into the kitchen feeling somewhat like a visitor on her own home. “Well Deels” she rasped as she walked up to her love. “Babs has the baby and Trix has been lost to the mystique of the bathroom.”

Delia smiled as she poured the violently boiling water from the heavy kettle onto the loose tea leaves sending them swirling like dervishes as they steeped. “It was nice watching you at work today. I felt quite naughty!”

“Naughty?” 

“You Nurse Mount, in that uniform, you could turn every head in London. I had to focus on the baby or I would have pulled you behind one of those screens and got us both in a lot of trouble.”

Patsy blushed. “You looked beautiful waiting for me. I don’t get to tell you that much here do I?” She spoke with regret. 

“Pats” Delia mirrored the regret but affixed her brave face with a smile. “Come on let’s take the tea up. Trix has missed you and I’m sure she has lots of gossip.”

Patsy picked up the heavy wooden tray and made her way out of the kitchen with Delia at her side. “How do you think they would react? Trix and Babs I mean. If they knew. If we were honest?”

Delia gently placed a halting hand against Patsy’s arm. “I know what you’ve been thinking Pats. Your family have spoilt us with our freedom but we can’t risk anything now can we? Everything is already so topsy-turvy.” Patsy couldn’t argue. The world had spun on a strange axis leaving them discombobulated. But it also addressed a long known truth for Patsy, that life was for living, and as living person you owe making a full life to those who had that very prospect snatched away.

 

When Patsy and Delia made their way back into the bedroom Trixie was sat at her vanity methodically applying make-up, replacing the mask that defended the vulnerable woman against the world. Barbara was cuddling the baby but looking rather uncomfortable perched on the old chair. Patsy placed the tray on a small clearing on the dresser while Delia happily relieved Barbara of her charge. Their easy conversation filled the room with chatter. Barbara the quietest and most naïve of the group joined in enthusiastically but found herself requesting clarification of one thing or another just as much as ever before which caused her to blush. 

The bedroom that Patsy shared with Trixie is in many ways much nicer than the communal bedrooms she had at boarding school and at the nurse’s home. She and Trixie both added personal touches here and there. Photographs of movie stars and famous figures cut from magazines pinned above their beds, knickknacks dotted on the limited surfaces reminding them of tis and that, and intricate little tubs filled with cosmetics covering the vanity (although the majority of these potions belonged to the fairer roommate). Despite the homely additions it was in the dark, in the quiet of the night, when Patsy still felt like a visitor. The springs in the bed jutted violently, no sense or reason to the order of stray coils but rather a mattress confused by the many bodies of all shapes and sizes that had inhabited it over many many years. The moonlight shining through the curtains exposing mysterious stains and the nocturnal sounds of the rooms other inhabitants highlighted the temporary nature of Patsy’s residence. 

Trixie had moved to the comfort of her own bed and sipped on her tea. Patsy was one of her closest friends and she treasured times like these. Friendships to Trixie were fragile things. Many of her school friends had settled into the lives of domesticity when she herself had started her training and they drifted apart. She’d enjoyed the comradery of the other student nurses but lost touch with many of them when she specialised in midwifery and moved to Nonnatus. Jenny Lee had moved, settle down and entered a new stage in her own life, and although they kept in contact the closeness of their friendship had in many ways been lost to Jenny’s husband and baby daughter. And Cynthia, her closest and most beloved friend, had become Sister Mary Cynthia and in taking those holy orders had driven a wedge between their friendship’ regardless of the proximity. Despite Trixie being happy that Mary Cynthia was happy in her calling and devoted life it was this loss that grieved her most. 

Trixie watched Delia nurse the baby, casually sat resting against the headboard of Patsy’s bed, Patsy herself sat Indian style at her feet and Trixie couldn’t miss the close unity the pair shared. An ease of being she’d witnessed in very few people, a complete togetherness. Ideas, thoughts, memories flooded her mind as she observed the pair. Was there more to Patsy and Delia’s friendship? Could that explain Delia’s involvement with the family and baby in the wake of the tragic bereavement? After all Patsy’s aunt and cousin were very insistent she stayed after the party. She thought of all the times that Patsy had excitedly done herself up for an evening with the Welsh nurse, the slight change in her demeanour whenever she spoke about her friend. The sneaking out of the bedroom when she believed Trixie to be asleep. The breathless conversations she had witnessed more than once. The black and white photographs tucked into the shoebox of Patsy’s precious things that she’d found accidentally when she knocked the box over in the early days their friendship. She presumed at the time that the pretty nurse in the photographs was a relation and she’d quite forgotten about the photographs sheer existence ever since. But she loved Patsy, cherished their friendship and the thought of losing another person from her life was simply terrifying to her. If Delia was a future for Patsy, a happiness, she wanted to ensure her place in at future as their friend, ally and confidante. But what she was wrong. What if they weren’t ready to acknowledge their relationship, if in fact they was anything other than close friendship to acknowledge? How would they react? Would they welcome her knowing? Or with a retreat into private world of fear?

Patsy went to light a cigarette but received a stern look from Delia. She replaced the tab into its packet and bit the pad of her thumb. “Trix, what’s got you thinking so hard?”

Trixie was bought out of her haze a little startled. She was overwhelmed by her running thoughts, filled with so many possibilities, so many complexities. “I was just thinking sweeties how natural Delia looks with the baby. Are you getting broody?” The question was accompanied by a genuine smile. The three of them sat on the bed in that moment looked such the picture perfect family. A mutual understanding of respect and love and a baby to engulf in the affection.

Delia giggled “I don’t know about that, but it does make me think spending time with babies is far more rewarding than male surgical.”

A little after five o’clock Barbara apologised that she had a date with Tom would have to dash. She expressed hope that Patsy and Delia would be back in Nonnatus House soon as she was missing their evening chats and games of monopoly.

In the absence of Barbara Trixie found herself pondering a course of action. Could she ask them out right? Surely not, Patsy being an incredibly private person may not react well. And anyhow what on earth would she say? Could she tempt them to tell her, if she regaled stories of her support for the young Fräulein Junior doctor she had provided diversionary cover for? 

Patsy laughed loudly, a laugh that grew from a deep happiness within as she leant over Delia’s legs to play with the baby. Despite very little interaction from the new-born Patsy delighted in helping wiggle her feet and trying to encourage gripping fists. “Well little girl, your aunty Trixie is thinking terribly hard today.” Patsy was still laughing as she looked over at the blonde woman. “Penny for them?”

“I was just thinking how wonderful and natural the two of you look with the baby. I hope one day I find someone to have that with.” Trixie hoped the statement was ambiguous enough that it could be brushed away like unwanted cinder from a fire if the reaction of Patsy or Delia was undesirable. As it turned out for several long moments she had no reaction at all. Patsy slightly corrected herself to sit back and facing Trixie she chewed her lip, trying to calculate her friend’s words and intent. Delia focused on the baby, unbeknownst to Trixie her breathing had stalled and a heart began to race. 

There was something in Patsy’s reaction that reinforced Trixie’s belief. She held eye contact with Patsy as a euphoric smile covered her face from her twinkling eyes to her painted lips. “Are you?”

“Are we what?” Patsy’s nerves were agitating her reply.

Trixie thought briefly, what were they? She didn’t know the terminology. “I don’t know what you’d call it. I’d like to know.”

“You make very little sense Trixie” Patsy deflected. 

Trixie could clearly see the white cold fear drenching Patsy as she looked haplessly at Delia only to see the same fear clearly reflected back.

“Please don’t panic Sweetie. I’m not prying, I simply didn’t want to lose you both to hidden truths. I won’t mention it again if it makes you uncomfortable I just want you to know that I support you. Now tell me more about your cousin Samuel, and what was the Scottish chaps name again? Mac something?”

“Mackie MacCallan?” Patsy said confused but grateful for the change in conversation.

“Yes, now tell me firstly why you have hidden such dishy chaps from me for so long…”

 

Those early cold January days transformed little by little as the spring crept in. First the snow drops appeared in small delicate clusters and then reflecting the arrival of the spring sun the daffodils flowered in the parks. The Nonnatus garden came to life bringing along hope of new beginnings. A funeral was held for Mai on New Year’s Eve, laying her body to rest with only the Whitaker family, Patsy and Delia in attendance. Bertie had attended the service in a catatonic state, his eyes bereft of emotion or life. Liz had decided that naming the baby may help Bertie connect with the infant and it was Delia’s suggestion of Lily Mai that gained the approval of the family. 

Days had turned to weeks and weeks to months as Patsy and Delia fell into a new sort of routine. Their days or evenings when not nursing were spent at the town house where Liz had remained with Bertie and Lily. Liz was in a permanent state of turmoil trying to ensure Bertie received the finest rehabilitative care available and that baby Lily was equally cared for and loved. She was worn out and emotional. She refused to enlist the help of a nanny saying Lily needed her family’s love not a stranger’s care. Patsy was lost on what more they could all do. Her own free time was limited although it had improved with the additions to the Nonnatus House workforce. Delia took her familial responsibilities in her stride but the tell-tale signs of exhaustion were creeping in to the countenance of the bubbly Welsh girl. And then there was their time together which was suffering. Their relationship at this point had weathered much worse and they were as close if not closer than ever. But their lessening intimate time and opportunity was taking its toll on both woman. Patsy was becoming grumpy and agitated and Delia was in her own way following suit. 

Delia and Patsy sat on a dark wooden bench in Belgravia Square, looking out over the perfect order of grass, spring flowers, trees and gravel paths that cut the small park into segments like a knife through cake. It was a peaceful place considering it was in the centre of London but it was also overlooked by so many houses that they had to sit a respectable distance apart. It was a sunny Sunday morning. Not yet warm enough to go without coats but pleasant and a refreshing break from the oppressive Poplar air. "We should go in" Delia said with a sigh "your aunt was very insistent we both be here for lunch. She'd be upset if she knew we were hiding outside Cariad!"

"We're not exactly hiding Deels. We're in direct view of half of London! We're always in view. I just want some time with you. We should be on our way to Paris for a romantic week but instead we're here. Being watched". Patsy was deflated. The past months had been a blur. She had struggled to fall into foot with the world. The New Year had started with her feeling quite awkward around Trixie, replaying their conversations for clues as to what she knew. If she did know what she thought she might, was she in fact comfortable with it? Or would confirmation of such suspicions change her idealistic and theoretical support. Fortunately that situation had eased of late but she felt she had hardly seen her blonde friend with her family monopolising all her free time. That situation hadn't eased. If anything as the weeks and months passed the pressure on Liz increased insuring Patsy would step in to do what she could to help.

"Pats"

"And to make matters worse your parents will be here next week and I know I have no right to begrudge them after the time you've given to my..."

"Pats!"

"It's too much Deels."

"I know. But Bertie is getting better. He's much better than he was. Everything will get back to normal."

"I'm not sure I want that either."

Delia could blame the exhaustion she herself was feeling. She could blame the terrible few weeks she'd had dealing with misogynistic doctors and patients on male surgical. She could even blame the thought of her own parents impending visit. But whatever it was the emotion crawled up her and scorching tears ran down her face. It wasn't a volcanic burst of emotion that she was used to when faced with the injustice of the world. But rather it came from somewhere so deep it eased itself out of her very bones. "Well what do you want because at this point I can't tell anymore Pat’s."

Patsy leant forward, resting her head in her hands. "I don't know." The small voice that was so alien when it came from Patsy both she and Delia were taken aback.

"Is it me? Do you not want…"

That drew Patsy back and she scooted across the rough wood of the bench until she could take Delia's small hands on her own. "You’re the one thing I'm sure of. You’re the one thing I don't feel lost in. And I'm so sorry I didn't realise the strain all this has been putting on you." Patsy pulled the soft white handkerchief with the daffodil embroidery out of her pocket and tentatively dried Delia's tears.

They sat in silence. The gentle movements of the swaying daffodils seemingly holding their attention but they just needed to be. They needed time to be still in a world of unpredictability. Time together. 

"We should go in. Are you ready?" Delia stood and held her hand out to Patsy who nodded, and taking the offered hand rose to her feet.

The house was quiet when they arrived, Mrs Pryce opening the door and informing them Mrs Whitaker would meet them in the drawing room. When they walked into the bright and warm room Samuel was already sat on the sofa reading Doctor Zhivago. He turned the corner of the page to mark his place, a habit he knew annoyed Delia immensely, and placed the book on the arm of the sofa. They greeted each other almost in silence. Kisses to cheeks said enough. He was as exhausted as they both were. Delia picked up the book looking at the dust jacket and reading the synopsis on the back. "Is it good? I heard it is?"

"I've never read anything more confusing in all my life! Even squirts diary's filled with maudlin poetry about the virtues of her French teacher’s eyes made more sense than this."

"I never wrote a word about my French teacher’s eyes!" Patsy retorted huffily as she sat.

"No you didn't - I remember now it was your fencing instructor and her rather firm..."

Patsy sprung to tackle Samuel before he could say anymore. Her long limbs flailing in every direction as her cousin laughed all the while trying to defend himself.  
Liz wasn't surprised when she walked in carrying Lily and witnessed the scrappy shenanigans of Patsy and Samuel. They had baited each other quite frequently though she had thought they may have grown out of such behaviour. She greeted Delia with a kiss to her cheek, handed her the sleeping baby and sat next to the young woman. "Do I want to know?"

"I don't think either of us wants to!"

Liz and Delia were quiet as they watched the tussle with amused patience. When Samuel finally called surrender and the victorious Patsy released the poor man Liz spoke up. “Are you quite finished? I’ve called you all here because Bertie has left. He’s gone to Singapore. There was nothing I could do to stop him.” Patsy and Delia looked shocked at the news. They had both only seen him earlier that week and he seemed much improved. For Samuel however the news didn’t arrear to be a surprise. “We need to discuss what’s to be done.”


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you for sticking with me in this story and for the very kind reviews. I wouldn't still be writing without your support. I had originally intended to wrap this story up around here but I've planned to continue as there is still a lot I want to explore for this scenario. I reread the last chapter and corrected the appalling number of errors. Hopefully I've been more thorough with this chapter. Vx

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"Bertie's gone where?" Patsy said indignantly. "He has a daughter now, he can't just up and leave! What the hell is he thinking? Selfish…" Her voice rose with the injustice of her cousin's behaviour which disturbed Lily causing the small baby to release a high wailing cry.

Delia kissed Lily's forehead as she shushed and rocked the baby lightly in her arms. "Pats!" She reprimanded with stern eyes letting the red haired woman know that now was not the time for a loss of temper no matter how deserved. Liz needed them.

Feeling somewhat guilty for her outburst Patsy took her place perched on the arm of the sofa enabling her to place a comforting hand on Lily. "Sorry. She just doesn't deserve this. She's lost her mother and her father has withdrawn from her voluntarily. It's not something anyone, especially one so small, should experience."

Liz spoke softly and slowly in response, eager that Patsy hear her full, not only in her words but in what she couldn't voice verbally also. "Patience, Lily will already have a very different life from what you experienced. She will never know the love of her mother but maybe she will knew something equally grounding and unconditional. You suffered so much at the hands of mankind yourself. And your father…"

"Did exactly what Bertie has just done and ran away."

"No, your father put you into my care because he thought it for the best."

"And I'm grateful for that, I am."

"Patsy. You are family I don't want or need your gratitude but we have to look at Lily's situation as very different from your own as a child. We have an opportunity to protect her from so much of the pain you experienced yourself."

After several long and awkward moments of silence Patsy looked at Samuel. "You're quiet Sam? Did you know he was planning to leave?"

Samuel shook his head as he leant forward crestfallen. "No. No I didn't but you can't be surprised? Surely? He's never settled. This has been the longest he's stayed at home, or in any single place since he left school. Even then he spent more time gallivanting off. If it wasn't for the Mount legacy he'd have been thrown out of school without so much as a buy your leave."

Delia was surprised by Samuel's tone. He had appeared so close to his brother. She supposed that this turn of events didn't change that. Samuel was just speaking what he saw as the facts of Bertie's behaviour. But one thing didn't make sense to her. "But Lily? Surly he would never…"

"I don't know" Samuel said sadly.

"He left letters" Liz said as she stood to pull the small bundle of papers from her pocket. I couldn't bring myself to read mine when I found them and then with Lily I've not had chance…" She looked at the letters each marked in very neat script and placed the one addressed to 'Mother and Father' back into her pocket. Handing the letters to their intended recipient she could sense a maternal finality to his gesture and the thought overwhelmed her. 'Sam' the stoic man took the letter as his head fell backward as if to aim a prayer at the gods above. 'Patsy' shaking hands held the letter, looking upon the slight smudge in the inky address as the small hairs on her arm and the back of her neck stood to attention picking up the slightest movements in her immediate atmosphere. 'Delia'. Delia looked about the room surprised. She barely knew Bertie. Why had he written to her? She sat still. Her place wasn't to make the first move in tearing open the envelope and eagerly digesting its contents but rather to sit and wait. Wait for Patsy and Sam and Liz to read whatever hope and comfort could be held on the thin parchment sheets.

Samuel stood and with well-practiced nimble fingers tore the envelope swiftly, the paper splitting to reveal the letter like an oyster in its shell. Retrieving the letter he read from his brother's familiar hand.

Sam,

I know you will be angry and disappointed in me. You have every right to be. You have always been so dedicated to the business and to the family. I've never had that focus but in Borneo and in the countries around Singapore I've found a world for myself.

I brought Mai to England in order to escape the conflicts that I'm sure will come to the region in the coming months and years. Now I'm returning to try to save the homelands of my beloved. She adored the lands just as I do, and I will do all I can in her memory to ensure the leaders will not destroy each country beyond recognition. I must do this for her.

You may not think I care. But I'm also doing this for you. I will continue to secure our routes and trade opportunities where I can.

I have every faith in you protecting your niece.

Your faithful brother

Bertie

Samuel refolded the letter and inserted it back into its envelope. "Nothing but excuses" he said as he sat, anger bubbling within him like Vesuvius. Without the addition of Lily his comments and actions could be seen as heroic, but he barely passed mention of the baby. He never mentioned her as his daughter. Could grief change a man so much?

Patsy seeing her cousin's reaction couldn't wait any longer. She tore open the envelope, the paper ripping through the neatly written 'Patsy' on the front. Her fingers gripped at the letter and pulled it out in hast. Letter in one hadn't she bit the pad of her left thumb as she read.

My dear Patsy,

I want to first thank you for all you have done. When Mai and I first arrived at Boreton you made her feel so welcome and safe. I know she valued the friendship you a Delia showed her even if it was for such a short time. These past months have shown me a side to life I think you have known far too well and I admit I had never understood the levels of grief any person could feel until now.

I can't be a father Patsy. Maybe the nuns you live with could understand but I have a calling of sorts. I have to return to Asia. I don't know what I can do but I need to try. For Mai, for Lily's future. I have written to you and to Delia because there is something I need to ask of you. You may think I should ask Ella but you know she is too much like me. She has her life being a socialite as the newspaper men call it. You are the person. You understand. You and Delia would give the baby everything she would need. You have my blessing to do as you see fit.

I've not written Lily with a letter for when she turns eighteen or anything so awfully dramatic. I'm not withdrawing entirely from the family I just simply cannot be a father.

I don't think I ever told you how lucky you are to have a girl like Delia. Look after them Patsy.

With my love and eternal gratitude

Bertie x

Patsy sat Catatonic awash with emotion. She was drowning in thoughts, so many thoughts, emotions, so many fears. Each thought was muddled with the next fear and each fear was soaked in a wash of other emotions. Even paranoia. Could Delia, her aunt, Sam tell what she was thinking. Were her thoughts so very wrong? They couldn't be. She herself could barely untangle her own thinking. Delia and Liz looked at her with concern. "Patience?"

Patsy passed the Letter to Liz who read the words quickly. Patsy noticed her breathing had remained steady. Her head was in overdrive but her body was reacting on instinct, calm and collected. When Liz read the final line her eyes fell shut "Oh Bertie"

Delia was now nervous as she looked at the other women. "Pats?"

Patsy took the baby from Delia's arms cradling her close as Liz handed the Welsh woman the note to read. Patsy stared at Lily as small steel blue eyes looked back at her. Every tiny feature of the child lodged in Patsy's mind. What on earth was Bertie thinking? She couldn't look after the baby. She loves her job and she has Delia. A baby couldn't fit into their life at Nonnatus. Why has he not suggested Liz? She did a sterling job in raising them all she was the natural choice.

Delia re-read the letter a second time before looking at Patsy who was staring at Lily intently. The barrage of emotions she was feeling made her dizzy. The words from the page spun. She had no idea of how to react or in what way she could support her girlfriend.

Patsy gathered herself. The room seemed to be shrinking by the second, enclosing in around her as her family waited for her to speak. "Liz, surely you and Charles would want to raise Lily? You raised us all so well and you…"

"Patsy, my dear that is the very reason I would rather not. I feel awful for saying. Maybe it does make me an awful person but I don't have the energy and Charles! Well he certainly doesn't. I would love, I do love, being a grandmother. I have always wanted grandchildren to visit us here and at Boreton. To take to the coast and for picnics. To show off at parties and events. To spoil at Christmas and well for no other reason than I can. But as a permanent full time job?" Liz sobbed openly her exhaustion and grief at Bertie's departure overwhelming her again. "I can't"

Samuel stood and embraced his mother whispering reassurance that she must not think so harshly of herself. It was too much and she was right, his father certainly couldn't cope with parenthood at his time of life. When she calmed Samuel stepped away and took his seat once again on the adjacent sofa. "It's a lot to ask I know" he said simply but everyone knew exactly what he was saying. It was a request on behalf of his brother, his parents and himself.

Patsy cradled Lily in her arm and with her free hand clutched Delia's. "I don't see how…"

Samuel interrupted before she could continue. "Pats. This is a shock to us all, and the request has the biggest impact on you and Delia. I suggest we have lunch then if you have time perhaps you and Delia could discuss this matter together. Then when we are all thinking a little clearer we could sit down this evening and decide on the best cause of action."

Lunch was at best an awkward affair. Conversation was stilted and every person around the table was more engrossed in internal dialog than social pleasantries. Patsy's fork picked over the roasted beef and gravy pushing around the shelled peas absentmindedly as her mind slid down the whirling tunnel of muddied thoughts. Delia had placed her calming hand on Patsy's arm to bring the troubled woman back to the room, encouraging her to at least eat a little.

Patsy looked at the clock on the bedside table, the pearled face showing three o'clock exactly. She and Delia had opted for a walk after lunch, intending to make their way along Grosvenor Crescent toward Green Park. The weather had started to turn as they made it to Wellington Arch and they sheltered silently under the bowed ceiling of the monument as the rain bounced from the paths around them. As the rain pelted from the sky, overwhelming the land by its sudden arrival and ferocity. Just as it quickly it started it stopped and the sun shone as though it had never deserted them. "Will we walk to Piccadilly and find a coffee house?"

Delia looked about the people surrounding them. Some walked efficiently with umbrellas, striding out with certainty, escaping any possible future downpours or heading back to where people, their people, would be missing them. Then there were the people who strolled arm in arm, or pushing baby carriages, meandering their way between two of the royal parks and enjoying the spring day. Finally she watched the mindless wanderings of the lone pedestrians. They could be poets or artists looking at the world as it welcomes the new. Or they could have no one waiting. No body wandering where they were or what they were doing. The people, Delia felt for the first time in her life, were swarming. She looked at Patsy and shook her head. "We need to talk Pats. We need to go somewhere private."

With few options left open to them where they could talk openly and freely Patsy and Delia began the walk back to Belgrave Square where they could seek solitude in Patsy's rooms. They had been let in the front door by the char Sarah and they made their way through the silent house to Patsy's rooms.

"Where does one even start with something like this? It's ridiculous isn't it?" Patsy said as the door shut behind them enclosing them in the sanctuary.

Delia placed an envelope on the bedside table before removing her coat and toing off her shoes. "Come and lie with me Cariad." Delia lay on her side of the bed facing Patsy's unoccupied pillow. Patsy looked at the small woman and slipped her wool coat from her arms, draping it over the armchair. She kicked off her shoes and padded bare foot over to the bed, laying down and looking into Delia's eyes. Laying like this had long since been a way of Delia coaxing Patsy into difficult or intimate conversation.

They lay. Delia waited for Patsy to speak but after she saw the large hand of the clock on the bedside table turn another quarter she spoke softly. "So" Patsy blinked as she listened to the rhythmic tone of Delia. "Would it even be possible? Would it be allowed?"

Patsy thought of Delia's question. "Well I'm family. Bertie has specified his wish and Liz is clear she doesn't want the full responsibility which I respect. I presume our solicitors could deal with any legal complications."

Suffocating silence again drifted over them like thick fog. It was Patsy who eventually broke the quiet "Have you ever wanted children? We've never discussed… you said you wanted to be married…"

"I didn't think it would be something that would ever be something we could discuss. I never was a little girl who liked playing with Dolls or anything like that. I knew I liked girls from the time I knew I could like anyone."

Patsy nodded. "Me too. I wander sometimes why I chose midwifery. Jenny Lee spoke so fondly of the career but I'd never thought too much about babies in general. I don't think I'd even been in close quarters with a baby since my own childhood."

"Do you remember back in December when I brought Lily to the Clinic?" Delia asked receiving a nod from Patsy who also sort her hand. Delia played with Patsy's fingers, nimbly gliding her own between while stroking, fondling, caressing. "When we walked from the bus stop I was stopped by two elderly ladies who fussed and said how gorgeous Lily was."

"She is very beautiful"

"I agree she takes after her aunt." Patsy rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that graced her features. "They congratulated me on having such a beautiful daughter and I thanked them and said how lucky I was. I don't know why I did it. I felt guilty for not correcting them in the first place."

"Deels, you needn't feel guilty. You know as well as I do that some people are hard to contradict."

"But I felt it. I wanted them to think she was mine."

"I can't give you children Deels. If that is something you want then…"

"No. You are what I want Cariad. But maybe this is our chance to have our cake and eat it too?"

Patsy rolled onto her back and stared at the kitchen. "People would ask too many questions if we were raising a baby."

"Questions easily explained away. You're her aunt. You would be raising her. I would just be helping."

"No. That's not how this is happening. I'm not having you on the side lines. I can barely stomach our life back at Nonnatus. Sneaking time together. Hiding. I couldn't do that if we were caring for Lily too."

"We would need to move to a flat or house. Somewhere with a garden for when she's a little older."

"That parts no problem in principle but where? Poplar? I don't know about you but I would feel retched bringing her up there when we could give her so much more. A home in the west end near the parks or in the countryside? But our jobs…"

"I couldn't imagine you not being a nurse. Not busying yourself and caring for people. I couldn't imagine you not being a midwife. It's a struggle to even think of you working anywhere but Nonnatus."

"But Liz is right. With Lily's start in life she needs the love of a mother not the care of a nanny. If we are working…"

"I would stop working. Well at least to start with. My savings won't last for long. We could have our dream. Only when you return each evening and I kiss you saying "welcome home" I would have Lily in my arms and she would be waiting for you too."

"Money isn't a factor at all. But would you put your career in jeopardy?"

"For a family with you? Yes!"

Patsy rolled back to face Delia, their lips meeting as Patsy's hands pulled Delia firmly against her. The movement caused them both to breathe in sharply. Patsy's tongue traced Delia's lower lip seeking its companion, yearning to feel her, longing for the hot silky sensation that accompanied the emotion she desired.

"Rwy'n dy garu di" Delia whispered as she nipped at Patsy's lips while stilling the taller woman's exploring hands.

Patsy stopped her hands but sensuously licked up over Delia's parted lips. "I love you too"

The glint in Patsy's eye told Delia all she needed to know but now was not the time to give into her arduous lover. She rolled over on top of Patsy and straddled her. Pinning her hands to the pillows above her head she kissed Patsy slowly and thoroughly.

"You like the idea of me in apron strings waiting at home for you?"

It wasn't a question though. Delia could see Patsy battle with herself but she couldn't hide her arousal. Delia squeezed her own thighs to still Patsy's seeking movements. "I like the idea too. I like the idea of putting the baby down in her cot at night and having the house to ourselves, time together. No one would think it odd."

"Babies cry. We wouldn't have time to ourselves. We would be…"

"She's already settling more. The older she gets the longer she will go through the night."

"That's years Delia. What if Bertie comes back and changes his mind. Do you think we would be able to give her up then? It would break my heart as I know it would yours."

"Do you think that likely?"

"No. But he may marry. Want a family. Want Lily to be part of that family. I don't see how we could have security in this. For both of us I mean."

Patsy freed her hands and like magnets they found Delia's hips. They worked their way under Delia's blouse and ran over supple flesh, covering her torso, worshipping her figure. The mood had shifted from being sexually charged to emotional, Patsy distracted by her hands as she thought on the dilemma.

"How would we explain our relationship to her? Children aren't good at keeping secrets."

"We'd think of something. We would have plenty of time."

"And if people did find out. Adults can be cruel but children can be crueller. She's already going to face this narrow minded world because she is half Malay, but if people found she was being raised by two queer women?"

"Those are bridges to cross if and when."

"So this is you saying you think it is a good idea?"

"This is me saying if you think this is the right thing to do I will be by your side. We will do it together."

"You didn't read your letter from Bertie. I think you should"

Delia reached for the envelope and looked at the looping D of the Delia written on the front. Elaborate, yet steady and exact. She opened the letter and held it so she and Patsy could both read.

Dear Delia,

Please don't let Patsy think herself out of this. I believe it will be best for everyone involved. You are a fine addition to the family and I know you have the love it will take. Look after them, I have no doubt you will be the sort of mother anyone would want for their child.

If you tell Lily of me when she grows please don't let her know how cowardly I've behaved. I can't give her what you and Patsy can.

Yours, Bertie

Delia looked at Patsy as the taller woman re-read the simple letter. "We should go and discuss this with your aunt and Samuel" Delia said as she looked at the clock. "What are we going to tell them Pats?"

"I don't know. I don't know what we should do. I may be being selfish but it's so much to take in."

"Let's hear their thoughts. You don't have to commit to anything right away"

"We don't"

Delia kissed Patsy "We don't have to commit to anything."

When Patsy led Delia into the Drawing Room Liz and Samuel were already sat. There was a plate of daintily cut sandwiches on a butler's tray next to a silver footed dish which contained some little colourful cakes. "Tea girls?" Liz asked as she tugged lightly on the bell pull.

When Mr Godfrey had delivered the requested tea and departed again Samuel abandoned his novel and moved to sit next to his mother. His action gave balance to the room, Patsy and Delia sitting on the plush sofa with their back to the door and facing Liz and Samuel. "What are your thoughts on Bertie's request?" Samuel asked as he reached and selected three sandwiches placing them onto his tea plate.

"There is too much to consider" Patsy said with a sad tone looking at each person in turn. "There are risks for Delia and I. Exposure from people asking questions. If we were to do this there are other considerations. Delia would have to give up her career, at least for a few years" this comment brought raised eyebrows from Liz that went unnoticed by all but Delia. "We would have to find a house."

"For what it's worth" Samuel said in his calm advisory voice "I think this may actually provide you with a certain amount of protection. And if it doesn't… you're not doing anything illegal and we have enough connections to sort any social difficulties." Patsy and Delia looked up at him and listened. "Remember you are hyperaware. The vast majority of people will see you as entirely innocent as is and add Lily to that and there would be little doubt."

Patsy held Delia's hand as Liz spoke with a small yet warm smile. "You said Delia would give up her career. Delia you are happy with that?"

"Yes" It was a simple reply and perhaps she should have elaborated but Liz seemed content with the response.

"Patience you said you would need a house. I'm sure Samuel could organise that. Maybe something in Belgravia? Or if you prefer the Dowager house at Boreton? The tenants there are not the most pleasant. I wouldn't be sad to see them go."

"I can't leave Nonnatus" Patsy said firmly unsure why she held so much conviction on the point. She knew she owed a lot to the nuns and nurses not just professionally but personally too. They had helped her grow into the person that she was. "I will have to speak with Sister Julienne. If this is to work I will need to know what my options are. Chummy was able to have more favourable work patterns when motherhood…" The word stuck in her throat. Motherhood. She had barely thought on it before. Such a big commitment and responsibility. Lots of people she supposed had parental responsibility thrust upon them before they were ready. But in general those people had nine months to prepare. They couldn't take that much time and looking at Liz, the changes in her physical self, she knew deep down there was very little option. She and Delia would up turn their lives because there was no one else willing or capable to otherwise. She wouldn't begrudge them. She could see for them all that it wasn't a choice. The only person that had a choice in how this would pan out was Bertie and he had made his feelings clear.

The cogs turned in Patsy's mind. She should feel trapped by the situation but as Delia had seemed to realise all along this fit somehow. She didn't know how. But it fit and the prospect of starting a new life, a life with Delia and Lily was exhilarating. She held firmly to Delia's hand and looked at her. She received the subtlest of nods and a squeeze to the hand. "We need to work out the details. I want to ensure Delia is protected in this in every way possible. She is giving up more than any of us. But we will do it. We will raise Lily."


	19. Chapter 19

Patsy drove Delia back to Nonnatus House with just the soft floating sounds of Bobby Darin and the Platters filling the motorcar as the sun set above London with striking pink shades. Delia watched Patsy’s movements as she handled the car through the streets. The small flexing of her thighs as she dipped the clutch, the way her neck was held with poise displaying her rising chest in the dim light, her hands caressing the sleek wood of the steering wheel. She shook her head to focus her thoughts on the baby they had just agreed to raise. Lily, the baby that she herself had agreed to give up her career for. She was feeling overwhelmed. In the Belgravia house it felt so safe, so possible. But now… “Pats, stop the car.”

Patsy manoeuvred the car onto a dark side street, high brick walls flanking each side of the road with soft street lamps shining to illuminate a narrow pavement. Patsy parked under one of the lamps and turned off the engine. The road was quiet, with few motorcars passing, and no pedestrians. 

Delia went to open the car door only to have Patsy place a stilling hand on her shoulder. “Deels?”

Delia released the door and let her shoulders sink. “What if we can’t do it Pats? What if I’m not good as a moth’…” Delia shook her head. “What do we call ourselves? Can I say mother? Can I be a mam?”

Patsy, encouraged by the cover of darkness, leant across the cabin and captured Delia in an impassioned kiss. “For once I think we should take each day as it comes. One simply can’t know what one will feel, or not feel, or how people will react.” The quiet that followed was comforting, bolstering, and uniting. “You haven’t changed your mind?” 

“No, no I haven’t and your right. Each day as it comes. Let’s get back. The sisters will already be in Compline but we can share the news with Trixie and Barbara. ”

 

Barbara was absent from Nonnatus upon Patsy and Delia’s arrival, having accompanied Tom to dinner with a parishioner in need of company. “Just us girls together tonight” Trixie said as they walked through the convent, the sounds of singing worship dousing every room with warmth and comfort. Nurse Crane was still at a delivery of twins and Trixie was second on call. To ensure easy listening for the telephones ring they sat, curled limbs and tucked feet, in the sitting room. “Did you have a nice lunch? Mrs B cooked Liver and Onions. Not her finest feast but Sister Julienne requested it to bolster Sister Monica Joan’s constitution!”

Patsy and Delia laughed at the look of repugnance on Trixie’s face. “Pat’s payed with her roast beef more than ate it but it was delicious. We had a rather eventful day in the end.” Delia looked at Patsy who moved closer to her love and subtly took her hand. “We have some news.”

Trixie saw the movement of hands and was pleased with the progress of their increasing comfort in her presence. Patsy ran her thumb back and forth over Delia’s knuckles. “My cousin Bertie has left the country. He has returned to Singapore and will remain there for the foreseeable.”

“Oh, and has he taken little Lily? Surely she is too young to travel?”

“She is too young but I don’t believe that is the reason he has left her here. He sees himself unfit to be a father.”

“Your poor aunt.”

“Yes. However, Bertie left instruction as to what he would like for Lily. He has asked that Delia and I become her guardians.” 

The shock on Trixie’s face was as plain to see as the sun rising at dawn. “Well you’ll have to keep that splendid motorcar for all the visiting you will have to do. Your aunt will keep the baby in London?”

“Actually, my family have asked us to take on raising Lily. My aunt hasn’t the energy and my uncle is not at a time of life to embrace full time parenthood”

“Your leaving us? Me?”

“No, no” Patsy couldn’t help but chuckle “I will remain working here if Sister Julienne agrees and Delia will care for Lily day to day.”

“But your career Delia?”

Delia didn’t reply but the blush to her cheeks relayed her willingness to forgo her career for mothering. 

“Where will you live? What will you do when you work nights? How will you afford keeping Delia and Lily? What can…”

“Trixie. Really! Calm yourself. My family will provide us with a house and an income. We haven’t sorted the details but we wanted you to know. We hoped you would be pleased for us?”

“I’d better be invited around or I’ll miss our chats and never forgive you.” The sadness behind the joviality wasn’t missed.

The three women chatted, Patsy answering as many of Trixie’s questions and concerns in as much detail as possible. She was acutely aware that her departure from Nonnatus House, despite her remaining to work, would not be easy for her Blonde friend. She vowed then to fully open up to Trixie ensuring her place in their new lives. 

As the sounds of compline faded Patsy suggested they retreat to their room so as their conversation wasn’t interrupted. When they arrived in Trixie and Patsy’s bedroom they took positions that were now very much the norm for them. Trixie on her own bed, Delia resting against Patsy’s pillow with her legs pulled up to her chest and the red head sat cross legged at her feet.

Bolstering herself Patsy tenderly started the delicate conversation. “Trixie, you know how much I, how much we, cherish your friendship?” She carried on before Trixie could form any response. “Delia and I are… Well that is to say we… We don’t court boys because…” She couldn’t find the words. Patsy had never shared her feeling to anyone outwit her family, with the exception of Delia of course. All those years ago when her family found out about her attraction to women it had been after the wretched blackmail case and her aunt had asked the questions and Patsy had simply answered truthfully. When she met Delia her family triggered on to the importance of their relationship and she was never called upon to clarify the situation. She was exceptionally lucky she supposed. To not only be accepted but for the entirety of her family to ensure her normalcy. “Delia and I are in Love. We have been for years. Since training you see. If we could have courted openly and got married we would have but we can’t. Please don’t be upset or disappointed with us. We would have told you sooner but…”

Trixie slowly stood. She walked around her bed until she was facing her two friends. She bent forward and embraced them both. The gesture was awkward due to their positions but the sentiment was clear. “Well it’s about time you told me properly. You’ve had so many false starts I thought I should have to fain ignorance forever!”

Patsy couldn’t help a choked sob and tear of relief. She was so grateful to have retained the friendship of Trixie and she acknowledged it openly. Delia wiped Patsy’s cheek and removed the damp smug. “Maybe you could join Pats and I when we go and view the possible houses? We would value your opinion and I must confess I’m anxious to see what Samuel thinks suitable!”

Trixie happily agreed. Her occasional references to herself as Aunty Trixie when speaking about Lily produced a spontaneous and exhilarated smile on both Patsy and Delia. 

“How will you tell Sister Julienne?” Trixie asked as the excitement of babies and houses and parties (the latter being largely by Trixie’s design) waned.

Patsy would do anything for a smoke right then but Delia was being increasingly strict following a conversation with Dr Turner. “Well I can’t tell her the whole truth but she knows about the accident and the balancing act we have all being doing since. I think I will tell her that Delia is going to be a paid nurse for Lily to put my aunt at ease… I wish I didn’t have to lie about that but I don’t think we have many options. I just hope she will allow me to continue on here. It’s a lot to ask I know.”

“It’s not a lot to ask. We are all entitled to lives outside nursing and midwifery and if she has anything other to say on the matter she can see me!”

This protective side to Trixie was what endeared her most to Patsy. She was as fierce and she couldn’t help to think what a useful ally ‘Aunty Trixie’ would become to Lily in time. 

 

“Come in Nurse Mount” Sister Julienne called permitting entrance into the well-ordered office. Patsy sat on the wooden chair, the seat buffed from years of use and the legs, back and arms dull. “What do I owe the pleasure this morning Nurse Mount? I trust your family and that beautiful little girl are all well?” 

“Yes, quite well thank you sister. I have some news regarding my family. My cousin Bertie, Lilys father, has left for Singapore. He doesn’t feel capable of caring for Lily at this time. He and the rest of my family have asked that I take guardianship of Lily.” The disappointment on Sister Juliennes face was clear as she chose her words carefully. 

“And this is your wish also? You would be sorely missed here at Nonnatus. You are an exceptional Midwife Nurse Mount and a valued member of our family.”

“I would like to remain working here if at all possible. I will of course be moving to a house in order to raise Lily but I can’t imagine myself not working.”

“But Nurse Mount, how do you propose to be a lone parent and a nurse? Surely you understand the demands that will be placed on to you?”

“Delia, that is to say Nurse Busby, has agreed to become Lily’s nurse. She will care for her day to day. It will reassure my aunts nerves and Delia can return to her Midwifery training at a later date if she chooses.” 

“In that case of course you must remain working here. And Nurse Busby and Lily will be welcome anytime they like. I don’t think we could bear to loose either of you from our table.”

“Thank you sister.”

“Keep me informed of your progress. If you need additional time off from your duties to make the necessary arrangements, we will help where we can.”

Patsy stood to leave relief flowing through her. “And Nurse Mount. Congratulations to yourself and Nurse Busby. I hope you have a very happy home.”  
Confusion. She always felt confusion and questioning when leaving Sister Juliennes office. She would one day understand if it was her own sensitivities or if the wise nun was actually trying to tell her she understood her predicament and supported her. She brushed the comments aside as was her practice but somehow the thought of Sister Julienne offering some sort of consent seemed oddly reassuring. 

 

It was another week before Patsy and Delia had a day off together. Delia had handed in her notice to the ward matron at the London and was working just a weeks’ notice. She should have been required to give more but she was due on secondment and her cover was already in place. 

“Is Trixie joining us?” Delia asked as they sat with a cup of tea.

“Yes. I checked she didn’t want to stay and catch up on her sleep following her gruelling night but she seems eager. I will like her opinion.”

“Well Samuel will be here at ten so we need to be ready soon. I can’t wait Pats. This is the start of our lives together.”

 

By mid-afternoon Patsy was despairing at what Samuel had deemed appropriate housing options. She had refused to exit the car at several of the houses as her stubborn nature was becoming the cause of teasing from Trixie and Delia. Samuel looked increasingly crestfallen with each rejected option. 

Patsy’s reasoning against some of the most prestigious and sort after property’s in London was wide-ranging and in some cases ridiculous. The Leafy suburb of Ladbroke Grove was by all accounts an idyllic, tranquil and inviting neighbourhood yet the houses to Patsy were boxy and she insisted the leaves form the numerous trees would cause danger in the Autumn with their slippery fallen leaves on the pavements and paths. Charles Street saw the houses described as too gothic and imposing, the structures towering over and casting the street into shade. Patsy simply wouldn’t risk Lily’s health as “Rickets are a very real thing and children need sunlight”. Delia had bit her tongue throughout the morning but that excuse caused her to giggle and shyly kiss Patsy’s cheek. She couldn’t detect if it was simply an excuse or overprotectiveness but either was an adorable look on the red head. The Vincent Square house looked promising with a pleasing outlook over the square park but the twitching curtains of the neighbours, and muttered word behind a cough by Samuel sounding awfully like “paranoia”, saw the driver navigating back towards Belgravia. 

Eaton Place was favourable for its close proximity of the family’s Belgravia Town House. The staff from that great house could help manage the upkeep of this large house but Patsy ever the pragmatist noted the long drive to Poplar in the ever increasing London traffic. They sat in the car in silence. Trixie was most taken by Samuels attentive nature towards his cousin but could see his patience wearing thin. “I have one more option which is only a ten-minute drive from Poplar. But it’s a shell. You would have to decorate and furnish the whole property.” The prospect was welcome to Delia who was concerned that moving into one of these grand homes, furnished with equally imposing fixtures would never feel like a home to her. 

Half an hour later the blue Rolls Royce slowed and turned onto a narrow cobbled road barely wide enough for the large motorcar to navigate. There was a pretty-ish sort of park to their right as the car stopped outside an inconspicuous house, built of bright brick in a Georgian style with a midnight blue door. Number 23 Stapley Green was a large end terrace town house, the three stories above ground was demonstrated by three large sash windows next to the front door, four sash windows above and three small windows peeking out of the attic rooms. The basement windows were visible and Delia couldn’t help but think this house was picture perfect. As they stood by the car Patsy was struck by how surprisingly peaceful the street and park were for the East End location. Samuel stepped out of the car instructing the driver to await their return. The four stood on the small cobbled area in front of the house. Patsy supposed this courtyard would fit one if not two motorcars. There were nine steps up from the yard to the front door with a curving handrail each side. Delia wandered how she would get a perambulator up or down the steps but she didn’t voice her concern as Samuel pulled the house keys from his pocket and skipped up the steps with a broad smile. “Come come ladies. Let us see what you think… Surely you’re out of excuses now Pats”

The door opened into a long hallway, the sparse décor bright as each footstep echoed from the tiled floor. They all ushered through into a very nicely proportioned sitting room. The Victoria cast iron fireplace and heavy white surround welcomed them. The room was featureless save the cornicing, picture rail and windows. The floorboards were bare and the lining paper pealed from the walls. It was unclear what colour the room had originally been decorated but many years of colour showed each chronicling the houses history like the rings in a tree. Samuel pulled at one of the flacking pieces, the dry paper tearing as if eager to free itself. “I have decorators ready to start tomorrow. I thought regardless of your choice you may want to put your own stamp on as it were. Follow me…” 

Samuel led them through the house methodically allowing Patsy and Delia time to absorb each dilapidated room. Back out from the living room they continued along the hallway to a small lounge which was positioned adjacent to the staircase leading up. At the end of the hall they entered a large airy room with a prospect down over a good-sized but unkempt garden. This room contained no features but a wrought iron spiral staircase descending down to the basement level. Samuel gingerly led Trixie down the narrow steps offering his hand for stability as the blonde tottered down the perilous steps in her heels. Patsy and Delia took a moment looking around the derelict room. The cheeky smile from Delia told Patsy all she needed to know about the smaller woman’s feeling on the house. Patsy found she herself was easily imagining this shell of a house as their home. The continued to join Trixie and Samuel. “We would need to replace these stairs” Patsy said earnestly “the certainly won’t do with an infant.” 

The Basement was a vast and bright room. The smaller windows seen from the front of the house offered a small proportion of light into the room. The Room however profited from floor to ceiling windows and French door which led out to the garden. The room had obviously been used as a kitchen with cupboard carcases crowded one end. Four single lightbulbs swung from flex, and despite the natural light and space this room appeared considerably more dire than anything they had seen so far. Delia and Patsy looked perplexed as they stood in the centre of the room. Trixie saw the dejected look that had overcome her dear friends and did what she did best. She cheered the situation with optimism and warmth. “This is perfect girls. You can have a modern fitted kitchen at this end with a breakfast bar”

“What on earth is a breakfast bar?” Samuel asked with an inquisitive smile. 

“Well it’s like a peninsular into the room where you can sit for breakfast and casual meals.” Trixie emphasised her point by walking out where she thought such a thing should go. And of course a range here. You could have a washing machine! Even a dishwasher if the budget allowed?” The rest of the party watched on happily as Trixie skipped about the room. “And then here, with the view of the garden… perhaps you can ask Fred to help with that… you could place a dining table. A large one big enough for all your friends to visit.”

The excitement returned. They stepped out into the overgrown disorderly garden. Samuel pointed out the only property overlooking the garden was the neighbours which he alluded to being “fixable.” They retraced their steps back up the unsafe steps and back to the hallway. The stairs up to the first floor were more civilised. Two good sized bedrooms, one with a dogleg and view out over the garden and the other with the view out over the park. The bathroom on the first floor was surprisingly tidy and that was the only room to draw comment. Up again they went to the attic rooms. They too were bright. Two rooms and a bathroom. Smaller than the lower but each charming in their position. 

Delia had seen enough. “I think it’s perfect. Pats?”

“I agree. And as long as we renovate the main rooms the attics can wait until we are settled.” They walked back to the first floor. 

Trixie laughed as they descended the stairs. “Patsy. I think you’ve forgotten a nursery for Lily. If you and Delia have the rooms on the first floor…”

Three sets of eyes turned on Trixie, all with raised eyes, two faces with bright blush and the third with an amused smirk. Samuel couldn’t help himself as he commented “Surely you’ve not shared a house with these two for this long and not had the misfortune of experiencing their amorous passions?”

It was Trixie’s turn to blush scarlet. “I’m sorry. I never even thought… without marriage…”

“That’s not an option though Trixie although Pats knows I would marry her in a heartbeat of we could.”

“And that ladies, is my biggest disappointment. With all my influence and meddling that is one thing I cannot help with.”

So it was decided. The house was perfect. It was in a pretty neighbourhood but private. It was a ten-minute drive to Nonnatus House and they would be able to make it their own, ensuring no floral patterns and all modern amenities. 

Samuel agreed to have an architect, builder and decorators in the house the following day. Patsy and Delia agreed that they would make it over to the property by mid-afternoon to make any decisions.   
The short journey back to Nonnatus was full of talk of colours and furniture and the excitement of their new home. The impending visit from Delia’s parents couldn’t have been further from either of their minds.


	20. Chapter 20

For three days Patsy and Delia, occasionally with the welcome assistance of Trixie, had consulted with architects and decorators, builders and carpenters. They listed items they needed to procure for the house, and chased around between shifts deciding upon paint and fabric samples. Patsy insisted all floorboards be striped, treated and waxed. Delia chose carpets for the bedrooms, stairs and the snug. Patsy had taken Delia to a Persian rug shop in Mayfair that was a little on the expensive side but they came away happy with a runner for the hall and a vast rug for the large space where the new basement stairs were being built. They had yet to decide what that space should be, but for now it had an exquisite floor covering.

Patsy and Delia stayed at tthe house late on the third evening, enjoying some privacy after all the workmen had left. The house was looking far worse not better as the builders constructed a more practical staircase to the basement and the decorators stripped back the walls to the discoloured and stained plaster. Just as they had done in the flat that they shared for that singular fateful night, before the bicycle accident, Patsy lay a blanket on the sitting room floor while Delia placed a simple picnic supper before them. They ate by candle ligh.

“I can’t believe this is going to be our home Cariad.”

“I can’t wait!” Patsy replied smoothly with a cheeky lopsided grin.

They ate silently enjoying the quiet space. “Did you get a chance to look through the kitchen brochure the carpenter left? I think Samuel may be paying a steep price to have them all here at such short notice and setting such strict deadlines.”

“Do we need to look through more brochures now?" Patsy asked hopefully. "I was hoping we could have an evening without colour pallets? I thought we could cwtch up and maybe…”

“I know you. A cwtch in an empty house is never that innocent Nurse Mount.”

“Well maybe not innocent.” They both laughed as Delia moved to rest herself in Patsy’s arms.

“Your letting me make all the decisions with the decorating you know.”

“Yes. You have more of an idea. You know what you like. No flower patterns and modern designs.”

“Yes but your style is so elegant and I would like an elegant home.”

“What you choose will be…”

“I want your input Pats. I want this house to be us. Not you or me. Us.”

Patsy fought every urge to initiate more intimate behaviours as she reached for the stack of brochures and colour charts. The colour print jumped from the pages. The options were many and they were pleased to see they both were drawn to similar choices. Patsy’s childhood in colonial Singapore was evident in her picks and Delia embraced the fresh design style that was so different to the lace doylies and floral curtains Delia’s mother sported in her childhood home of muted browns and grotesquely perfect figurines.

Having pawed over their options and drifted into daydreams for their new home they finally tided away their supper and left the house, locking the door, and walking down the steps to the car hand in hand. Before Patsy opened the door for Delia she paused. “Thank you for doing this with me. I can’t imagine not having you by my side …”

“Pats. I will always be by your side. And this, a home and family with you, is all I’ve ever wanted if I’m honest.”

“I wish I could kiss you”

“You can you fool” Delia said it almost expecting to see the panicked expression that Patsy always flaunted when she felt cornered. To her surprise however Patsy brushed her lips over with her own slowly before suavely opening the car door. It was times like these, in the still darkness of a spring evening, that Patsy could still so easily take her breath away. She was the epitome of gallantry.

 

Liz had arranged a day’s shopping with Delia to purchase the fabrics and furniture. She was due to pick Delia up at nine o’clock and just minutes before Patsy had been called out to a delivery at the docks. Delia walked Patsy to her bicycle and slyly placed her hand on top of Patsy’s which gripped the warn white plastic bike handle. “So I will see you at your aunt’s house for supper?”

“Absolutely Deels. If the delivery runs long, I will try and telephone. You will be alright?”

“Of course Cariad. I’m looking forward to a day with Liz and Lily.”

“Have you got the envelope?” Delia patted her pocket in response and grinned. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable with Patsy giving her money, and cash felt particularly squalid, however she understood why Patsy wanted her to have ample money with her for her days shopping. Her aunt would take care of the large purchases but Delia could now buy any little items that took her fancy. Patsy looked about and checked they were alone. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Now get going and I will see you this evening.”

Delia watched as Patsy cycled away. The morning sun was shining and the last of the winter bite had shifted to a more pleasant warmth. Everything was feeling right. Before she could retreat back to the house the familiar car of Elizabeth Whitaker slowly pulled up. The driver seamlessly hopped out of the car and held the door for Delia. Delia excitedly scurried into the backseats and greeted Liz and Lily warmly. As soon as she sank into the comfortable burgundy leather seats Liz passed Lily into her arms. “The shops await. I hope your ready dear!”

The day was a blur of colour and selection. After the chauffeur had pulled Lily’s foldable silver cross carriage from the boot and erected its sturdy structure Delia was whisked away into a world of attentive shop assistants and ‘money no object’ purchasing. Liz, so relaxed and modest in so many ways, showed Delia a different side to herself. If patsy was an efficient nurse it could be concluded that she gained that particular trait from Liz. Delia had never seen anyone approach shopping in such a manner. She did however appreciate that although Liz was commanding in every establishment they visited she made no purchase or decision without Delia’s express say so. Lily was fortunately placid for the majority of the day, only fussing when she required feeding, changing or a little love and attention.

By early afternoon Delia was feeling quite exhausted. She had sat on, or lay on, countless sofa’s, arm chairs, beds and dining chairs. She and Patsy were quite resolved to the fact there would be lots more furniture to purchase in time but for now they had just listed the necessities.

For the lounge Delia had decided on a classic Chesterfield finished in a mustard velvet. She had previously had her mind set on something more contemporary and angular in design but after trying several modern sofas she found the drawback to the various contemporary arm styles was they wouldn’t be in any way conducive to cuddling up with Patsy. They purchased a second in a plum velvet and two striped arm chairs that complimented the colours selected. Liz in her excitement had found a cabinet in a dark wood which Delia fell in love with immediately. In a similar style were occasional tables and Delia decided that was ample furniture for the sitting room until they could see it in place, set off against the dark wood floor and ‘linen white’ walls.

The snug was simple. Liz recommended a soft leather as more forgiving to life with an infant so Delia selected a large sofa in warn brown cigar leather. A turquoise armchair, coffee table, and a rather space age looking standard lamp was all they would require for that small and intimate room. 

Patsy had seen a style of dining table she liked in a kitchen brochure and Delia was delighted when she saw one very similar in a large shop in Chelsea. The cherry coloured wood table top sat on shiny chrome legs, the chairs each made of formed veneer with a dramatic cheery colour and grain set on black metal legs were functional and stylish. It was a little smaller than the Nonnatus house table but would comfortably sit eight with space to squeeze an additional two or four odd chairs if the occasion called. Delia loved people and the thought of beinng able to entertain their friends was very appealing. 

Selecting the beds had been a more embarrassing experience. The shop had a large range of beds in various styles and sizes. Delia had hesitated at which she should look at. She and Patsy had decided just to furnish their room and the nursary at this juncture but old paranoias returned. She edged towards the twin beds and tentatively sat on two different mattresses. Liz rocked the pram and laughed at Delia’s nervousness. “Really Delia” Liz said fully aware the sales staff could hear their conversation “your married with a baby. I think you can choose a marital bed!” Delia was sure if there was a mirror she could confirm her burning face to be the colour of a scarlet rose. The salesman looked mortified at the elegant lady’s comment and after a brief conversation scurried away to check which beds could be delivered by the end of the week. An hour later they left the shop, Delia still blushing, happy with the purchase of a large grey linen upholstered mordern bedstead with a firm deep mattress that she knew Patsy would appreciate. “We will need to buy linens for the bed. The list of things we need seems to get longer by the day”

“As long as you have the necessities you can pick up everything else as you go. Perhaps we can have another day in town later in the week. I’ve enjoyed myself today immensely.”

 

Patsy was pleased that she was finished with the Truman’s birth by mid-afternoon. The labour itself was quick but in a rather exposed setting at the dock. As soon as the baby was safely delivered she had returned to a small dank flat with mother and child to ensure they were both as well as possible following the baby’s rather public and speedy arrival.

As she cycled back to Nonnatus House Patsy called into Mrs Buckle's shop and ordered some new cot linens and necessities for Lily. After a brief chat with Violet and reassuring the lady that Lily was doing exceptionally well she left agreeing to bring Lily by the shop very soon. 

“Good afternoon Nurse Crane” Patsy said as she emptied her bag and sorted through its contents, cleaning the instruments thoroughly so they could be placed into the autoclave for sterilisation as soon as it had finished its current cycle. Patsy relayed the events of her morning delivery to the senior nurse and was delighted when Phyllis enquired after Lily, Delia and the new house. Patsy was aware she was gushing somewhat about all three subjects but her mentor looked pleased with her response.

A loud knock from the front door broke Patsy’s conversation with Nurse Crane. “you get that Nurse Mount if you will. I would like to update the rolodex before I forget any details of the mornings deliveries.”

Patsy had a proverbial skip in her step as she walked towards the insistent knocking. Sister Winifred was next on call so she could be washed and dressed in half an hour giving herself plenty of time to get to the Belgravia house, and to surprise Delia and Liz upon their return. Her mind continued to run with excitement at what Delia would have chosen. The excitement intensified with the adrenalin of answering the Nonnatus door.

“Mrs Busby! Mr Busby. Come in come in. Welcome” Panic swept through Patsy. She had forgotten all about their visit and she was sure, unless Delia had remembered whilst shopping, that she wasn’t the only one. “I hope you have had a pleasant journey? Delia isn’t home at the moment.”

“Well she said she would be. Her father and I specifically said we would be here by half past four.”

Patsy chewed her lip as her mind raced. If Mrs Busby realised Delia had forgotten about her parent’s visit, there would be hell to pay. And if Mrs Busby realised that it was Patsy’s family domineering Delia’s time, and causing such a lapse, she may never forgive Patsy. It wasn’t ideal but Patsy could only think of one course of action. “There is actually a change of plan. Delia asked me to welcome you. She is actually shopping with my aunt today and I’ve been charged with bringing you to meet them for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. I’m sure your eager to see Delia.”

Delia’s father had a kindly face. “That sounds lovely. It will give us chance to catch up with you Miss Mount.”

Patsy smiled nervously “If you will excuse me I will just change out of my uniform and then we can be on our way. Would you like to wait in the sitting room?”

Patsy dashed to wash and change, her heart beating against her chest with panic rising as the reality of what she had just suggested set in. How would Delia react? Surely she would see Patsy’s logic. She looked in the mirror. Maybe she should wear a dress or skirt. Mrs Busby had always looked upon her slacks with suspicion. Applying the last discrete touches to her makeup she decided there was more to worry about than her attire. She made her way back downstairs and sought Nurse Crane. “Nurse Crane. Can I be presumptuous and ask two favours of you?”

“Are the Welsh accents I heard in the sitting room Nurse Busby’s parents?”

“Yes. We rather forgot they were due.”

“Well ask away then kid. If there is one thing universal in life that is that things always go smoother with the in-laws on side!”

Patsy blushed. “I panicked and said Delia and I intended to take them to dinner with my aunt. My car isn’t suitable for the three of us – well four of us on the return. Could I offer you a swap of motorcar for the evening? The Morris for the DB4?”

Phyllis’s eyes lit up. She never thought there would be an occasion to allow anybody else to drive her beloved motor but she couldn’t deny the Aston Martin was a motorcar enthusiasts dream. “That would be most agreeable.”

“Do make the most Nurse Crane. She is a pleasure to drive.”

“You mentioned a second favour?”

“I can’t telephone my aunt’s house in case they overhear. Could you make the telephone call for me and inform the housekeeper or my aunt of the situation?”

“Write down the number kid and get going before they become suspicious.” Patsy wrote the telephone number on a scrap of paper and exchanged it with the motorcar keys. “Good luck Nurse Mount. I hope your evening is…. Well I hope it’s all alright.”

The thanks Patsy showed made Phyllis shake her head and smile as she made her way to the telephone. Now all she needed was an excuse to take that motorcar out for a spin.

 

“Have you visited Mrs Blod since you arrived?” Patsy asked as they waited in the dense traffic. Mr Busby was attempting small talk in his own quiet way but the tension flowed from Mrs Busby who sat rigidly in the backseat.

“No, we came straight to Delia. We shall call for tea tomorrow. We do usually stay but there is a problem with the boiler so we splashed out on a room at a little hotel near the Mile End tube station.”

Patsy’s heart pounded as she inched the car forward making little progress in the journey. “I do hope you don’t mind my aunt inviting you for supper? I know she’s eager to meet you both and she’s good friends with Delia.”

It was Delia’s mother who replied cutting over Mr Busby’s polite response. “It would be nice to have known so we could have dressed for dinner I should think. Delia is usually such a thoughtful girl. I’m sure she would realise this would make us feel quite unprepared.”

“Please Mrs Busby don’t concern yourself. It’s just a simple supper.”

The journey continues slowly in this tense manner, conversation stilted and relying predominantly on the polite observations of Patsy and Mr Busby as they passing through the city.

Some half an hour later as Patsy parked Nurse Crane’s Morris on Belgrave Square Garden she was unsure if she was hoping that Delia and her aunt were already back from their shopping trip or if it would be better for her to take Mr and Mrs Busby into the house and have them join after. Of course it was completely out of her control but the panic tingled through her veins. As they had made their way across the city Patsy thought this plan, this ruse to ensure Mrs Busby didn’t realise Delia had forgotten about their arrival, was maybe not the best option. But it was too late now. The decision was made, and it was made with the best intentions. Now she just hopes the whole evening would not be a complete disaster and that Delia would eventually forgive her.

 

As Patsy tugged the bell pull she could see Mrs Busby out of the corner of her eye. She now knew where the expression “she looked like she was sucking on a lemon” came from. The small woman looked over the house with condescension, evidently feeling uncomfortable in the situation.

Mr Godfrey opened the door and welcomed them into the house. “Miss Patience, Mr and Mrs Busby. Allow to relieve you of your overcoats.” His soft and efficient manner, as he tended to Mrs Busby first, was a comfort to Patsy but nobody else. Patsy was sure that if tension was tangible then this could not only be cut with a knife but carved like a tender joint of roast beef. “If you will go through to the drawing room Mr Whittaker will join you shortly. Mrs Whitaker and Miss Delia are not yet returned.”

They waited for what felt an age. Mr Godfrey bought Mrs Busby a cup of tea which Patsy was surprised to find was in fact to Mrs Busby’s taste. Mr Busby happily accepted a dry sherry and Patsy herself nursed a tall glass of soda water with lemon. Patsy was sure that she saw her uncle pass the drawing-room door more than once but she couldn’t blame him for not voluntarily entering the heavy room.

Clambering in the hallway, the sound of the front door shutting and soft voices indicated that Liz and Delia had finally returned. Patsy quickly sprung to her feet and went to meet the pair. Their joint laughter under any other circumstance would swell within Patsy but today it did little to swash her trepidation.

“Well hello there you three” Patsy said loudly enough for Mr and Mrs Busby to hear “we wondered what kept you. Your parents and I made better time from Poplar than I originally thought and we’ve been waiting for you for the past half an hour.” The facial expressions that Patsy was pulling in no way corresponded with the words or tone in which she was speaking. Delia’s eyes grew wide she realised not only that she had forgotten her own parents visit but also they were now at just feet away.

“You brought them here?” Delia said urgently in a hushed voice unbuttoning her coat before Liz handed Lily back and set-to removing her own.

“I panicked. I didn’t want them to think we’d forgotten them.”

Before they could say any more Liz was already striding into the drawing-room radiating calm. “Mr and Mrs Busby. I’m so very pleased to meet you both. Delia has spoken so much about you and I do hope you don’t mind that I slightly bombarded them into agreeing for you to take supper with us.”

The Busby’s replied courteously and Liz, an expert in awkward social situations, steered the conversation to safe ground and engage them in a light tête-à-tête. Patsy took Delia by the hand and led her to the dining room where she was sure they would be not overheard.

“I’m so sorry Delia. I made a rash decision and it’s been awful. Your mother hates me and I don’t think this evening is going to help a jot with that.” Patsy stroked Lily’s sleeping head as her sad eyes looked down in defeat.

“She doesn’t hate you cariad. She’s just mam. I’m sure it can’t be half as bad as you think. And I’m actually quite pleased they will meet your family. I think it means a lot to me.”

“But what about Lily? What will we say? We can’t hide her! Or can we?”

“No we can’t hide Lily” Delia said firmly unsure whether Patsy was jesting. “You and I will officially be guardians to a baby girl and living together in a house within the next couple of weeks. I was going to have to tell them sometime and perhaps Liz will be a useful ally? Anyway, if they don’t like it they can just… Well they can go…”

Patsy cut in before Delia worked herself up. “I’m sure that even if it takes a while they will come around eventually. I suppose we just tell them the truth? Maybe not the whole truth!” But she wasn’t sure if she believed her own words. She hoped upon hope that Mrs Busby in particular find a way to accept this change in her daughter’s lifestyle.

With some calming deep breaths Delia handed the sleeping Lily to Patsy. She wasn’t sure why she did it. She thought perhaps walking in to the drawing room with a baby in her own arms may be too much of a shock to her mother. At least both she and Patsy had seen Mrs Busby just over four months ago that she could in no way question either of them being the biological mother.

 

“Hello Mam. Tad.” Delia said with such genuine calm and warmth that Patsy wandered if she was the only one on the brink of a nervous breakdown. “Sorry I’m late. Your looking well Tad, and Mam – is that a new twin set?”

“Don’t try and butter me up young lady. We've been waiting and...” Mrs Busby finally looked up to see Patsy holding the tiny baby. Patsy sat quietly next to Delia who instinctively arranged the swaddling cloth around Lily’s head and neck ensuring she was comfortable.

Delia took a deep breath. “Mam, Tad. This is Lily Whittaker. Liz’s granddaughter.” Mrs Busby looked unimpressed by the child’s presence but Mr Busby, who had always had a soft spot for babies, strained to get a closer look at Lily and passed comment on how adorable she was. Delia ploughed on before she lost courage. She hadn’t given any thought on how she would eventually explain this to her parents and now she wished she had dedicated some time constructing what to say. “Lily’s mother sadly died as a result of a motorcar crash. And her father, Liz’s youngest son Bertie, has had to return to business in Singapore. He had asked that Patsy and I become Lily’s guardians.”

“Guardians cariad? Don’t be ridiculous. You work all the time and a child needs proper parents. You obviously haven’t thought this through. And if you have one of your turns...”

Patsy shifted as she lost her struggle in holding her tongue. “Delia doesn’t have turns any more Mrs Busby as you well know. And we have both given this a great deal of thought.” The edge to her voice was undeniable and her sharp tone caused Lily to whimper. Delia immediately took Lily into her own arms. It wasn’t that Patsy couldn’t calm the child but Delia herself wanted to be calmed. Patsy understood how difficult Delia found standing up to her mother, and the red heads protective nature was a contributing factor to her less than cordial relationship with Mrs Busby.

“I’m taking a break from nursing Mam.”

“You’re going to give up your career, everything you have ever wanted, because she has talked you into it?”

“Patsy hasn’t talked me into anything. In many ways it was me that persuaded her that we could do this”

“But your career. You’ve just made Sister. Ever since you were a girl it’s all you ever wanted.”

“No. It was all I ever admitted to wanting. Because I didn’t think it would be an option for me. I didn’t think parenthood would be an option for Patsy and me.” Delia had never been so direct with her parents and despite their shocked silence she felt stronger. “Patsy’s family all support us and I hoped that you would too?”

“Where will you live?” Mr Busby asked quietly.

“Samuel, Liz’s oldest son, has arranged a house for us”

“It’s actually not far from your hotel” Patsy interjected. “Perhaps you would like to see it tomorrow? The builders and decorators are working on it but it should be looking more liveable in the next few days.”

Mrs Busby was silent but her eyes had set on Delia and Lily, with Patsy by their side. She had known her daughter and Miss Mount’s relationship was too close but if they did this there would be no going back. Delia wouldn’t find a nice man and settle down if she had already done all that with Patsy. She voiced her concern, her voice breaking with emotion as she worried that Delia would miss her true future by ‘playing house’. “And your father and I always wanted grandchildren. I really don’t think you have thought about this in the long run.”

“Mam. I know this is difficult for you. But I love Patsy. There never will be a man for me. We love each other and we are going to be a family”

Patsy presented an olive branch to Mrs Busby “We would like you to be part of our lives. Of Lily’s life.”

“And Charles and I would be very happy to share grandparental responsibilities. Mai, Bertie’s late wife, was orphaned. I’m sure these two will benefit from our experience and advice.”

Mrs Busby didn’t appear convinced. “What about your parents Miss Mount? Surely your mother and father are not so happily accepting of all this?”

Patsy stiffened. She knew that Delia had never told her parents about her childhood. She knew Delia would never tell anyone without her consent. “My mother died in a Japanese internment camp when I was thirteen. Along with my sister. She taught me a lot about putting your child first. She nurtured me and loved me and gave me all I needed as a young child. And later, in every action, in every comforting word spoken while we were interned in that hell. But I can’t truely say how she would react to this situation…”

“I can say” Liz said gently as her heart broke for her niece who was baring her soul in desperation of acceptance. “She would have supported you entirely and she would have adored Delia as much as your father does. She was too focused on watching you and Annie grow to give any thought to grandchildren but she would have embraced being grandmother to lily with the same passion she took on life.”

Mrs Busby saw the pain in Patsy. The occasionally aloof woman looked more of a girl than she ever had before in those moments and she realised she had judged her as a person a little too harshly. “This is a lot for your tad and me to take in Cariad. Patsy. Give us some time. But we will come and see the house tomorrow and check it’s suitable. Why anybody would bring children up in this city is beyond me. The air is thick. The Pembrokeshire air is much healthier. And the water…” 

The group was ushered through to the dining room soon after with Mrs Busby still in flow on the shortcomings of London life. Delia handed Lily to Mrs Pryce who happily took the baby for her evening bottle. This evening hadn’t gone as badly as it could have. Her parents hadn’t stormed out. But would they ever accept them? She started to feel the dread for all the faults her mother would find with the house the following day.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a prolonged break from this story - simply very limited time to write. A couple of very nice messages and reviews motivated me to make time over Christmas so here we are. A steady chapter back into it as I'm just getting a feel for the story again but things will pick up in the next couple of chapters:-) Merry Christmas everyone.

Patsy stood amongst the mature and untamed shrubs in her new garden, an unlit cigarette occupying her right hand as she nibbled on the pad of her left thumb. She had slipped out, hopefully unnoticed, as Mrs Busby fussed over a pot of tea, listing the improvements that must be completed on the house before they could move in with the baby. The ‘royal tour’ as Delia had dubbed it had only comprised of the ground floor lounges and kitchen so far but Mrs Busby had found much to criticise. 

Patsy could make out Delia’s pacing form, Lily in arms, in the partially finished kitchen and felt a pang of guilt that she had abandoned her momentarily. There was a conspicuous absence of tradesmen also, each group of plasterers, decorators, builders and carpenters suddenly requiring trips for supplies. Patsy couldn’t blame them, the formidable Welsh lady put the fear in god into her and today Mrs Busby was, by all accounts, on exceptional form! 

“Sanctuary Miss Mount?” came a deep rhythmic voice pulling Patsy from her trance.

“Mr Busby. I just stepped out to…”

“Say nothing Miss Mount. Anwen is pecking well today” Mr Busby chortled as he looked at the unlit cigarette. “Are you planning on lighting that or has Delia put her foot down?”

Patsy looked at the small white stick that she was inexplicitly getting comfort from. Patsy smiled as she looked up “I rather think she would be quite furious that I was even holding it; intentions be damned.”

“I dare say your right. I used to like to relax with my pipe on a Sunday afternoon and listen to the wireless but even from London she has stripped me of that little indulgence”. 

Patsy smiled softly as her eyes drifted back to the closed French Doors. “Do you think there is anything I could do to gain Mrs Busby’s approval? Of the house? It would mean so much to Delia.” 

“Oh, she approves of the house, Miss Mount. She’s in there making tea. She’s getting her feet well and truly under the table. Her bark is worse than her bite you see. She has always been a very protective mother of Delia, and that was never welcomed by my petal. She was always a headstrong, independent girl. Her mam has had to watch and hang on to anything Delia would allow.”

Patsy nodded and watched fascinated by Delia’s calming sway, the fluid movements distorted by the glass. She always soothed Lily like this after a feed, and it appeared to result in a very content little girl. 

“Can I call you Patsy Miss Mount? I don’t know you well, but I hope to.”

“Please do.”

“And you must call me Rhys. Now we should go back in before we’re both in the dog house.”

 

The kitchen echoed softly, and Patsy consciously kept her head high and her feet unfaltering as she re-joined Delia, with Rhys in her wake. 

“This is your first home cariad” Mrs Busby lectured to a frustrated Delia “all these modern contraptions aren’t needed. They cost the earth to run, and they can’t be hygienic I’m sure.”

“It’s just a washing machine and an automatic dishwasher mam.”

“Just a washing machine! Well, I’ve never. You get this high and mighty attitude from her I suppose?”

“Patsy mam. Her name is Patsy. And no. I there is no high and mighty attitude but…”

Rhys cleared his throat drawing attention away from the rising tensions. “Is there a brew in that pot? Patsy and I were just having a look at the garden. There is a lot to do, but I will make a start when I can. Plenty of flowers for you to cut petal?”

Delia handed Lily to Patsy before hugging her father. “Thank you, tad”. 

Rhys kissed the top of Delia’s head “I’m proud of you petal. Now, let us drink up and then I think I would like to see the rest of this house. I dare say its four times as big as your Aunt Blods and she thinks that a palace.”

Mrs Busby complained as they walked through the house. The new staircase up from the kitchen was too steep, the ground floor rooms were too small and too large respectively, she didn’t know what on earth could be done with the large space at the top of the stairs, quite a waste she was sure. By the time the party made their way to the first floor, Delia’s heart was crashing against her chest. Patsy walked behind, supportive hand resting against Delia’s lower back but offering little comfort as she was experiencing a similar trepidation. Patsy called ahead to her in-laws. “The room to the left will be the nursery. Do go in. It’s the room that has made the most progress.” 

Mrs Busby opened the heavy panelled door to reveal a good sized room painted in a bright sunshine yellow. The cornice, high skirting boards, windows and ledges shone with the fresh white paint. The floorboards were host to a large soft blue rug, brilliant with geometric shapes. “Pats and I thought we might put the cot against that wall and put a nursing chair under that window there, the morning light should catch nicely. We have a nursery set with a sort of Napkin changing table, and I want to get a bookcase against that wall. I can’t wait to read the books about little ducklings waddling off to the park.” 

Rhys outstretched his arms in a request for Lily. “I used to read you The Wind in the Willows from when you were Lily’s age. You seemed to like it even before you could understand it. I will bring your old copy through on our next visit. I think I should like to read that to this little lady.” 

Mrs Busby kept her eyes away from her husband and Lily, inspecting the nearly empty room. “These floors are not sensible for a babies’ room. You should have gone with a nice practical brown patterned carpet – they don’t show the stains you see, and children create stains.” She walked out of the door and looked into the next room, the barely recognisable bathroom.

Patsy sprang to the defence of the house immediately “I’m reassured it looks worse than it is. They have had to replace the pipework and install electric lighting, but everything is nearly back in place. They just have to tile and paint. 

Mrs Busby didn’t look at all convinced. “Is that the old bath that was here originally?”

“Yes, Mrs Busby. These old roll top baths have the advantage of being somewhat longer than the modern acrylic ones, and with my legs, that’s rather welcome.”

“Well, I will bring some bleach. Lord knows what germs are lurking from years of use.” Anwen continued to the last door on the floor and opened it revealing a large room with two sash windows on one wall. The room was painted in a soft off white. 

“Will this be your room cariad? Or will Miss Mount stay close to the baby? You don’t want to go climbing two flights of stairs each evening.”

“Actually mam, Patsy and I will both share this room.” The tension in the room multiplied and the silence that followed sank through both Delia and Patsy and settled deep in the pit of their stomachs. Mrs Busby turned to walk out of the room but instead of making her way back down the stairs climbed to the second floor. With a raised eyebrow Rhys followed his wife still holding Lily safely in his arms. 

“Thank goodness the bed hasn’t been delivered – I don’t think I could look mam in the eye again if she’s seen that too!” Delia’s comment burst the heavy cloud, and Patsy burst out laughing. “You think it funny cariad? You’ll have to answer the same questions as me. We’re in this together which means they are as much yours to deal with now as mine. The thought sobered Patsy immediately before Delia literally pulled her up to meet her parents on the second floor. 

The rooms on the second floor mirrored those below but had yet to be touched. They stood dilapidated with stained and dated wallpapers peeling, bare untreated floorboards and the lingering smell of the stagnant air. “These rooms need airing. Even if you’re not decorating, they need airing”. 

“You're right Mrs Busby. We will open the window each day. We hope to make these two rooms guest rooms. Maybe next time you visit you could stay?”

“We stay with Delia’s Aunt Blod when we visit London. I see no reason why that should change.”

“It should change because you want to spend time with me, with my family, with your family, your granddaughter.”

“I just don’t understand cariad. Why can’t you do this properly? Miss mount you are a lovely girl I’m sure, but this is not right? Can’t you try? For me and your Tad?” 

A loud sob escaped Delia, and she immediately folded herself into Patsy’s chest, seeking comfort and escape simultaneously. 

Patsy remained calm as she wrapped her arms around the quivering frame of her girlfriend, but there was a new level of bite in her voice as she spoke. “I believe you may be under the impression that this has been undertaken lightly. Mrs Busby and I can assure you it’s not. Not our relationship, not our decision to raise Lily and not our choice in a home.” 

“Have you really thought? Are you both sure of what your doing?" 

“We have Mrs Busby. We love each other. I want to give Delia everything I can in the world and if you can just see past that I wear skirts as well as slacks…”

“You and your clothes. That’s another thing, gallivanting about dressed like that. What will people think?? You already do that job…”

“I’m a midwife. Why do you find that so distasteful? And as for my wearing slacks most girls do, it's 1961 you know!”

As the voices continued to rise Lily squirmed and whimpered, tiny fists waving freely. The Whimpers turned to whines and the whines to sharp cries. 

“There there Lily” Rhys cooed as he swayed and hummed ‘softly as I leave you’. Delia remained in Patsy’s arms but peaked out at Lily being soothed. Lily’s cries brought a stillness in the room. 

The stillness seemed to last for minutes until Mrs Busby finally swept Lily into her own well-practiced arms, her right hand tapping gently against the babies back. “This building site is no place for a child. I think you had better take Lily back to Mrs Whitaker's home and your tad and I will hurry these workmen along. They’ve been allowed to dilly dally for too long.”

“But they’ve only been working on the house for…”

“Don’t question mam Pats” Delia whispered “Your right mam, we will take her now. Liz is going to take care of Lily tomorrow so I can join you.”

The party made their way back to the front door, and farewells were made before Patsy helped Delia and Lily into Nurse Cranes Morris.

Patsy turned the key, and the older car roared to life, like a faithful steed readying for duty. “Well, that couldn’t have gone much worse darling. I’m so sorry I got a little heated with your mother”.

Delia smiled softly and looked between the searching eyes of Lily and Patsy. “I’m rather pleased with how that went.”

“You can’t be serious Delia. It was a disaster…”

“No, it wasn’t Pats. Mam stayed in the house. I introduced her to my new home, where I will live with my beautiful, and very ladylike, girlfriend. She spent that day with a little girl who is half English, half Malay, and only related to me via, my very elegant and female, girlfriend. I asked her to look on that little girl as her granddaughter. I asked her to view our house. Our bedroom! She stayed Pats! She stayed, and she worried, and she picked at faults, and she comforted Lily. It's going to be perfectly alright. She stayed, and she’ll keep being there.”

Patsy smiled softly. Delia was right. Patsy had through the morning an entire disaster but actually Mrs Busby could have walked out and not acknowledged them at all. There would be plenty of trials ahead, but for now, the Busby matriarch wasn’t putting up too much of a battle or trying to drive a wedge between herself and Delia. Patsy double pumped the clutch and pushed the gear lever into first. The car pulled out down the now familiar lane away from their home. 

“And Tad adores you both, but we may never be rid of him once he sets out on that garden.”

Patsy just smiled. She was looking on the positive side and not thinking too much about their entire day with Mr and Mrs Busby come the morning.


	22. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another somewhat rushed chapter I'm afraid. I'm determined to finish this story but time is not my friend at the moment. Apologies for any mistakes hope they don't dampen your interest in the story.
> 
> In this chapter, I've also borrowed a concept I really enjoyed in one of Think_Busby_Think stories from the fantastic Tea series.

“Morning all” Delia almost sang as she breezed into the dining room in a fitted, flattering and somewhat low cut day dress. She took her seat next to Patsy and leant forward to retrieve the large enamelled teapot.

“Oh, my good giddy aunt” Patsy chuntered under her breath as her eyes wandered to the inviting cleavage. Fortunately, her behaviour drew no more attention than a raised eyebrow from Trixie, as the young nurses and nuns sat around the Nonnatus table sharing one of Mrs B’s substantial breakfasts. 

Delia consciously ignored the risqué comment and chatted away. “I barely got any shut-eye last night. I now understand why humans have a forty week gestation, you need it just to plan what supplies a house needs when that home is going to contain children.” Delia reached for the now cool toast and jam, uncharacteristically self-absorbed. Patsy had barely managed to contain herself, or school her glances after the young Welsh woman had swept into the breakfast room wearing possibly the most fetching dress she had ever witnessed on her partner. 

Patsy deliberately kept her eyes on her own plate, barely lifting her head. The situation pulled a sly grin from Trixie as she notes the rose pink blush on Patsy's cheeks.

\--

 

Patsy elegantly folded her tall frame into the Morris, placing a small bag on the rear seat and checking her surroundings. Delia hopped into the passenger seat with a more energetic style. Her skirt hem rode slightly higher as she settled on the green leather and Patsy closed her eyes praying to keep her concentration as she drove. The revealed glimpse of the soft pale inner thigh was far too tempting. Patsy rebuked herself for having the libido of a teenage boy. As she pushed the heavy gearstick into first and eased the car into motion, Patsy spoke her first words of the morning. to Delia “New dress?”

Delia’s eyes danced with joy. “Yes, I picked it up in town with Liz. Do you like it? I thought it was a little pricey, but Liz said it’s a timeless classic day piece”.

Patsy released an almost primal hum of approval. “I’m not quite sure it is going to help my strained relationship with your mother!”

Delia looked puzzled. “Why would mam care that I have a new dress?”

“She may care that I can’t seem to stop undressing you with my eyes. She will think me even more of a cad than she currently does.”

“She doesn’t think you’re a cad cariad. She just hasn’t figured out how to talk to you yet.”

“Am I that different to talk to than anyone else?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s charming. You seem to manage just fine.”

“But I was intimidated when we first met. The accent, the manners, the clothes. You radiate breeding, money and style. I just presumed with you nursing the money had run out!”

“Really Delia, Breeding? You make me sound like a prize nag”.

“You're just very different from anyone she associates with in Pembrook. She’ll overcome her prejudices soon enough.”

The couple drove through the winding streets, Patsy tried to keep from fretting over a day with her in-laws. Distracting herself, she reverted to the practical and efficient. “I must purchase a more suitable motorcar, and sooner rather than later. Nurse Cranes generosity can not be boundless”.

“Trixie mentioned Nurse Crane has been offering to take care any expectant mother if she could justify driving. Any excuse I believe was the phrase Trixie used.”

“That maybe, and I’m glad that she is enjoying my baby however I think if your mother saw it she would think me very irresponsible.”

“Your baby?”

“Well…”

“Don’t dig yourself a hole cariad. Oh look, mam and tad have beaten us here.”

Patsy parked the car neatly on the small courtyard area and looked out from the car at the Busbys before turning back to Delia. “Once more unto the breach.”

Delia rolled her eyes and gathered her handbag before going to greet her parents.

The four made their way through the house, inspecting the work and receiving updates from the foreman. Patsy and Delia were both somewhat taken aback by the progress in just under twenty-four hours and neither could resist the wide grins that swept over their faces as much more of the house looked habitable. 

Despite the sea of tradesmen working exhaustingly on the house, there was still lots to be done. Delia moved from room to room, confirming details and ensuring the men had everything they needed. Mr Busby passed jovial comments as he walked between rooms, carrying small items to their new homes, Mrs Busby kept a constant stream of tea flowing and despite the welcome brew her cutting words and icy demeanour did place a little more tension in the house than ideal. For her part, Patsy inspected the completed jobs, highlighted small areas that were not perfect and found more and more nooks and crannies that would be impossible to clean to her exacting standards. 

By the mid afternoon the smell of fresh paint, freshly sawn wood and new carpet filled the house. Several furniture deliveries had arrived, been carried into place and then moved at least three or four more times until Delia and Patsy were satisfied by its positioning.

“What were you thinking Delia?” Mrs Busby asked her daughter as Patsy and Delia lounged on their new sofa, delighted by how comfortable it was. “It's mustard yellow! And Velvet! What will people think? And that aweful fabric is not at all sensible with a baby in the house.”

“It's comfortable mam. And I like yellow.” Delia and Patsy were grinning at each other, both excited for the time when they would be alone in their new sitting room, listening to the wireless and unwinding from their days. 

A loud knock at the door drew Mr Busby from the room. His booming Welsh voice filled the hallway. “Come in, come in. What have we got here?” The muffled reply was lost on the ladies, but the content of the delivery soon became clear. “Right’o, follow me chaps. Just one flight of stairs. I'll lead the way.”

Delia immediately blushed, but the pinkish tone to Delia’s cheeks was missed as Mrs Busby and Patsy both rushed from the room to ensure the moving men were duly careful as they ascended the staircase.

“Do be careful, you're too close to the walls. I hope your boots are clean. Both beds should be in the righthand room”.

Delia walked slowly behind. She had been dreading this delivery and the fact that her parents were there to witness it was in many ways the most embarrassing moment of her life. By the time the delivery men had set the bed frame in place and retreated to bring the mattress from their van all three Busbys and Patsy stood catatonic, teaching looking at the bed with their own trepidation. Patsy could feel the blush deepen in her cheeks, the fiery heat creeping down to her chest and causing her heart to pound like a small child caught when up to mischief. Delia began to look about, weighing the fastest ways she could extradite herself from the room, and plan to avoid being in her parent's company for the next five to ten years. Yet before she could bolt Mrs Busby spoke. 

“There is only one large bed. Is it a mistake?”

“No mam” came the sheepish reply from Delia

“Well, where is Miss Mount to sleep? I thought you were to share this room?”

“We are mam. We will share…” Delia looked about. She didn’t want to voice the remainder of the statement, and she was very conscious that the conversation was not suitable for the ears of the work party.

Mrs Busby said nothing but departed like horse bolting after a bee sting. Delia looked cautiously between her father and her mothers departing form. “Tad?”

“That bed needs extra support. They don’t make things like they used to. I’ll fetch some tools, and I’ll have a look. Better to do it now.”

Finally, alone Patsy turned to Delia with raised eyebrows. Delia smiled softly “It was supposed to be a surprise. Liz’s suggestion! I didn’t give too much thought about its delivery, and I certainly didn’t think my parents would be here.”

“Well, I’m very much looking forward…”

“Pats” Delia interrupted as the sound of the delivery men got louder as the manoeuvred the large mattress into the room. Delia signed the delivery slip before braving up to locate her mother.

_

 

The tension from the rear seats of the Morris was palpable as Patsy drove across London in the early evening traffic. Mr Busby was riding shotgun and providing directions. Mrs Busby had arranged this evening with her sister and had promised Blod Delia would join them for dinner. She hadn’t wanted to include Miss Mount in the trip, but there was no way around extending the invitation.

“I hope Blod has made a roast. She makes a very good roast, and I, for one, am famished”.

“your always famished tad,” Delia said from the small space in the rear of the car.

“Because I’m blessed with being from a family of wonderful cooks. You’ve all spoilt me.”

Patsy's mind ran as she drove. Delia spoke of her aunt often, but Patsy had not been able to gain much insight into the lady from the odd comment here and there. She had picked up from a conversation with Delia that Blod was Mrs Busby’s younger sister, a spinster and worked in a small drapers shop just south of the river. She also noted that Blod was a favourite of Delia’s and by all accounts jovial and warm. The unknown however was causing some trepidation and having Mrs Busby at the initial meet made the whole scenario that bit worse.

Patsy parked the car outside the period terrace on King George Street and the family busied themselves as Mrs Busby led the way to ring the bell.

The door opened to reveal a short and slender immaculately dressed woman of about 40 years. “Hello Anwen” she greeted, embasing her sister. Her accent was much like Delia’s, the Welsh drawl softened by years of distance.

“I hope we’ve not put you out Blod. How you plan any journey with the traffic here…”

“It's no problem at all Anwen. And you’ve brought my favourite Neice so all is forgiven.”

Delia stepped up and warmly embraced her aunt. “Hello, Aunty Blod.”

“Delia. Look at you. You look fabulous and the fabric of your dress is beautiful”

“Thank you. I hope you don’t mind I’ve brought my dear friend Patsy with me. We have some news. Patsy…” Delia waved the tall red head over. “Pats, this is my Aunt, Blodwin Morgan. Aunty Blod this is my dearest friend Patsy Mount.”

Blod stepped forward and hugged Patsy who was a little taken aback and stiff with the unexpected action. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Morgan.”

“Call me Blod. Now come in. The kettle is on, and supper will be ready in about half an hour.”

Delia and Patsy followed Mrs Busby into the house which was simply furnished. The hallway hosted some large black and white photos of various landscapes wild and untamed, eclectic umbrella stand filled with shooting sticks and umbrellas and a tall coat stand covered in coats and hats of all colours. The hall led to a well-proportioned sitting room, a large sofa, two wing-backed armchairs, lots of tall lush green pot plants and a television sitting pride of place in front of a bookcase and next to the black cast iron fireplace.

Blod and Rhys followed the group in, laughing and obviously enjoying each others company. Right, who would like tea? Who would like something a little for fortifying? Rhys, I have a bottle of Ale if I can tempt you?”

“You know I’m easily tempted. Ale would hit the spot just perfectly.”

“Anwen? Delia? Patsy?”

“A cup of tea for me. I’ll go and make a pot” Mrs Busby said as she moved to leave the room.

“Yes, tea sounds most welcome,” Patsy said

“I’ll give you a hand mam?”

Delia, Anwen and Blod retreated to make the drinks leaving Rhys and Patsy alone in the sitting room. Rhys had taken a seat on one of the wing-backs and was leafing through a catalogue of sorts. Patsy thought that this seemed a well-practiced routine for him. 

As Rhys hummed and tutted at various pages as he flicked through the leaves and Patsy looked about the room. It was modern yet patchworked with old pieces of furniture. Again the walls were covered in photographs, more mountainous landscapes and some snaps of Blod with another lady looking as though they were on various holidays. In some Blod looked to be much younger and her features and dimpled smile resembled Delia more than a little.

The sofa stood in the centre of two small side tables, one home to a lamp, a well-thumbed novel and a pair of reading specs. The other featured a lamp, an ashtray, a box of Embassy tipped, a box of matches and a small stack of Magazines which included the latest copy of the Radio Times, Vogue and a Times Newspaper. It was a homely room with a comfortable feel. Two alcoves, either side of the fireplace were filled with books and board games. Many of the text looked like reference non-fiction although the paperback novels looked to equal the more academic works in number if not mass. The last feature of the room as a neat desk, many papers piled neatly at one end and a large pot of pens and pencils. 

Delia returned with a cup of tea for Patsy and sat next to her girlfriend at one end of the sofa, politely leaving space for Blod to take her usual position, which she soon did.

Rhys closed the catalogue. “How are things at the shop Blod?” he enquired.

“Very good. We’ve expanded into the old wool shop next door, and we’re offering haberdashery and dress making. It’s a big change but so far its all very good. How is the drapery business in Pembrook?”

“Excellent. Your replacement is finally capable of being left to run the shop for more than two days at a time, so I’m rather optimistic about the future.”

“You worked for Mr Busby?” Patsy asked, warmed by the idea of the small family shop and a young Delia running about the brightly coloured rolls of linens and, Cottons and silks.

“Rhys taught me all I know. I started as his shop girl when I was fifteen and loved every minute of it. When I moved to London, he helped me set up my little shop.”

Mrs Busby humphed at that, clearly unimpressed.

“The call of the big city. What attracted you to setting up here?”

Mrs Busby cleared her throat. “Hadn’t you better attend to supper if we’re going to eat before we need to head back to our hotel?”

Blod stared momentarily, unamused by her older sisters manners. “Yes, and you can help me, sister. You surely know best when it comes to making gravy?”

As Blod and Anwen stood the younger sister took a deep and fortifying breath. “And Hilda will be joining us when she has finished work. She’s not seen Delia in over three years.”

The sisters retreated, their body langue frosty in the extreme. Mr Busby simply raised his eyebrows. “Well, that will put your mother in a spin. Pass me The Times, will you? I want to pretend I know what is happening in the world.”

“Hilda is an old friend of my aunt's. You’ll love her Pats. She’s a scientist and a hoot. I’ve not seen her since I moved to London. I think she still lives nearby. She used to visit us in Wales with Blod when I was young. She taught me all sorts of fun experiments. We created an exploding volcano in mam’s kitchen one Easter. It didn’t end well.”

Delia regaled Patsy with countless stories of childhood adventures and mischief while they waited. Delia lit up as she described her aunt's antics and Patsy found she was becoming rather fond of her new acquaintance with each passing tale. Delia also talked of Hilda, of picnics and being somewhat awestruck as a child of her aunts intelligent and cosmopolitan friend.

Patsy looked around once more, absorbing the room, it was cosy, yet the fire was unlit. “Has Miss Morgan had the boiler repaired? You mentioned Mr Busby that she was having some problems. Hence your hotel stay?”

“Rhys, please! I think she must have although I wouldn’t put it past Anwen to have bent the truth a little there. We usually wait for Blod to invite us to visit at a time convenient to her, but Anwen was set on this week.”

Just as Patsy was going to respond a loud thud of the front door closing drew their attention. “Blod?” Came a new voice from the hall. It wasn’t as plummy as Patsy’s, but it had a public school air to it. Only moments later the same tall women from the photographs walked into the living room, dressed in well-tailored dogtooth slacks, an open neck blouse and dogtooth waistcoat. Her feet sported a pair of well-worn sheepskin mule slippers. “Well hello, Rhys, Delia. It's lovely to see you both again. Has Blod left you fending for yourselves? Oh and an unfamiliar face. I’m Hilda Lovegrove Trent, a friend of Blods. Pleased to meet you?”

“Hilda, this is my dear friend Patsy Mount.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Patsy.”

“Likewise.”

“Now I will just nip to say hello to Blod. Can I freshen your drinks while I’m up? Pre-dinner snifter anyone?”

A quarter of an hour later the party was called through to the dining room to take their seats. Delia excused herself to freshen up, so Patsy offered her assistance in serving the food. She entered the kitchen and noted, Hilda, carving the joint of beef with Anwen nowhere in sight. The kitchen was neat and filled with lots of little pots, each neatly labelled, racks full of wines and even more plants. There was a small table, just large enough for two with a pair of odd chairs, each with comfortable looking cushions. Patsy was soon enlisted and helped carry through the many bowls of steaming vegetables and warmed plates with the beautifully carved meat.

As they ate Blods attention moved to Delia. “You mentioned you had some news, Delia? I’m rather excited to find out about the latest developments of my niece's life.”

Delia subconsciously moved slightly towards Patsy and rested her knife and fork on her plate. “I’m not sure where to start.” Patsy and Delia slowly explained the situation in as much detail as they could. They talked about Bertie and Mai, about Lily and Bertie's request they became her joint guardians. They talked about their new home and the work that was currently being carried out, and finally, they talked about the roles they would be taking on with raising Lily and their nursing.” 

Blod and Hilda were both quiet. They listened intently to the sad saga. “Well that is a terribly sad story, and I’m so sorry for your loss Patsy. But I must admit I am quite envious that you are to have the chance to be a parent. It was never on the cards for me…” with that Blod chanced a glance at Hilda.

“You could have both been parents regardless of tragic circumstance. You could even now find nice men and marry.”

Blods demeanour changed instantly. “Anwen, you know full well why Hill and I haven't settled as you put it.”

Silence swept the table. The sound of silver on china was all that could be heard. Patsy was finding herself more and more curious about her new acquaintances. “So how did you meet and become friends? Delia says you’re a scientist?”

Hilda smiled at Blod. Pure luck and in many ways thanks to Delia. The gods were shining on me. I had undertaken a study which took me to a small village in Pembrokeshire. I booked a room at the local Inn for a month and set about cataloguing and analysing local flora. This little girl, with wonderful dimples and a love of climbing, became quite curious about what I was up to and for the first two or three days followed me as I set out each morning foraging. It was the summer holidays. The little girl picked up the courage to start asking me questions and she became my unofficial field assistant. On my fourth day, a rather beautiful and sunny Thursday I could hear the loudest Welsh voice I had ever witness shouting after Delia. That's when I met Blod. She became my sanity for the next few weeks. My study got extended, and it was October before it was time to move back to London.”

“I’d always wanted to move away from Pembroke, see the world a little and Hill gave me the chance to do just that. Rhys helped me set up my shop and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Patsy watched all interaction for the rest of the evening, the body language, the small innocent gestures. Now the house made sense to her but could Delia really be nieve of the situation?

The evening drew to a close and Delia invited her aunt and Hilda to join them for dinner in their new home in a fortnight's time. They would be able to introduce them to Lily and Patsy found herself quite excited about getting better acquainted with the older ladies.


	23. Chapter 23

"This is your Friday night broadcast from the BBC's evening service." Delia turned the wireless tuning knob until the sound came through crisp and clear. Despite everybody's efforts, the house had taken nearly a week longer to complete than initially anticipated. There was some structural work that became a priority, and the decision was made to have two guest rooms completed given the prolonged schedule.

Delia had been busying herself all afternoon. There were fresh cut flowers in vases throughout the house, a fire had been laid in the hearth, cushions plumped, and all bedrooms made up. She had prepared supper, and it was waiting in the oven in new brightly coloured pyrex dishes, and a blanket had been placed on the lounge floor, mimicking the first evening in she shared with Patsy in the dilapidated house. She knew it would be more civilised to eat at their dining table, but this just felt right. It was their first night in their new home. Their home. Now Delia just had to wait.

Delia had waved Patsy off early that morning after a panicked father had telephoned Nonatus House desperate for a midwife to attend his wife. Patsy had cycled away waving and with a broad smile, her prim manner absent fleetingly. Now Delia was just waiting. Waiting for an unknown time, waiting rather impatiently. Delia closed the window shutters, the aroma of new paint filling her senses as she blocked the darkening evening away. She had told Patsy she did not want drapes and that she liked the simplicity of the shutters but now she wonders if the room needs a splash more colour. The tulips were tweaked and the picture of Patsy and Delia at the previous years Easter Bonet parade was moved to a new home yet again. Still, she waited.

Patsy looked at her silver fob watch with a sigh. She had been watching time pass extraordinarily quickly all afternoon and evening. Now she fond herself parking her car and looking at the house. It was gone eleven, but the lights from the sitting room windows still glowed welcoming her home. Her feet were heavy as she walked up the steps, her arms also hung like lead weights at her sides. It had been one of the hardest days, at least physically, she had ever had on midwifery and paired with the past weeks of house renovation and moving her body was crying out. She unlocked the door and stepped into the warm hallway, hanging her cape and removing her shoes. The house was silent save for a soft hum of radio static. Patsy walked quietly into the sitting room intending to turn off the radio and lights before retiring. What she did not expect to see was the small figure of Delia curled on the sofa, huddled under the comfort of her cardigan fast asleep and snoring softly. The sight of the young Welsh woman waiting up for her, all be it unsuccessfully, swelled the adoration in Patsy's heart.

After spending several long seconds admiring the view, Patsy moved with purpose. She made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water, found what she presumed was her supper still waiting in the warm oven and placed it on the counter to cool. She ensured everything in the basement room was switched off before making her way back up through the house and back to Delia. She would have loved to scoop her slumbering love into her arms and carry her to bed, but the reality would be far from the romantic ideal. Crouching next to the sofa Patsy ran her thumb slowly over Delia's pink cheeks and lips "Darling lets get you to bed…"

"Pats?"

"Sorry, I am late home sweetheart. Let me help you up."

"I tried to stay awake."

"Shush. Come on you will be more comfortable in our bed."

"Pats" Delia paused as her brain raced to wake. "Welcome home."

The smile that Delia received in response spoke so loudly as to the joy and relief they both felt at that moment.

The smile that Delia was mimicking soon turned to horror "I made you dinner. It will be ruined."

"I have left it to cool. I am sure it will be fine tomorrow. Let's just go to bed."

\---

Delia carried a tray to the dining table and laid out toast, jam and butter, a pot of tea and two cups which already had the desired amount of milk in each. "You know Deels; you do not have to make me breakfast every morning."

"I know, and I might not always have time with Lily, but I like doing it."

"Well, I appreciate it. I promise I will not be late home this afternoon. I will be back after the clinic."

Delia nodded "Liz said she would bring Lily over around ten. It has felt odd not seeing her this past two days."

"Well, I am looking forward to coming home to you both." Patsy looked around the kitchen. It was perfect for them. It reminded Patsy in the way of her home in Singapore, a decision she was concerned she would regret, but she found it comforting and familiar is a way she could not put to words. Patsy swallowed a lump in her throat as the magnitude of having a real home with Delia truly sank in. Looking down to her hand Patsy had not realised that she had taken an iron like grip on Delia's hand. Never before had Patsy been so reluctant to leave for a shift at the clinic. Noticing the time Patsy took one more hurried sip of tea. "Have a lovely day darling."

"Hurry home Pats," Delia said as she placed a soft kiss to the tempting lips. "I love you."

"And I you Deels."

As Patsy walked up the stairs from the light kitchen, Delia shouted after her. "Will we invite Trixie for dinner tomorrow night? I cannot wait to show her the house now it is finished."

"Will do. I will ask her at clinic."

With a broad smile, Patsy skipped up the remainder of the steps and left for the day.

\---

Delia answered the door to Liz and Lily with a giddy grin. "Good morning Liz. Hello, beautiful. I have missed you." Delia took the wriggling baby into her arms, Lily's expression clearly showing delight in being back in the Welsh woman's arms.

The three happily spent the day walking around their new neighbourhood. They looked into the small shops near the house, buying a new blanket for the sitting room, and stumbled upon a charming Italian café with colourful and exotic looking pastries and cakes.

It was nearing three in the afternoon when Delia and Liz carried a sleeping Lily in her carriage up the steps and into the house. Delia felt electric, bringing Lily home, and knowing that Patsy would return within the next couple of hours.

"Is she still sleeping?" Liz asked as she followed Delia who pushed the Silver Cross to the large hall area near the kitchen stairs.

Delia tucked the swaddling blanket neatly around Lily, ensuring she was cocooned in comfort and stroked her cheek. "Yes. Let's pop the kettle on and have a brew while she sleeps. It must be exhausting being adored!"

Delia and Liz walked down to the kitchen chatting about the various adoring reactions to Lily's eyes, smile and adorable little hands they had encountered. Delia busied herself making the tea and Liz perched elegantly at the table. "One thing I would like you and Patsy to talk about Delia dear is how you both, but you, in particular, react when asked about your daughter. Blushing and stuttering is charming I'm sure, but it will soon lose its appeal. Spin a yarn. Let the gossips work in your favour."

Delia placed the teaspoon down and looked at Liz. She didn't know what to say "I…."

"Talk to Patsy dear. Now just a splash of milk for me."

Delia set to finishing the tea, her mind running forward with Liz's words. She would discuss it with Patsy and come up with a plan. Liz was right of course. They needed to take control.

"Don't look so worried Delia. This situation is unusual, and if we, your family, don't mention things we believe may put your little family in jeopardy, we really would be doing you a disservice."

Delia carried the two cups over to Liz and Sat next to her friend. "I know, thank you. It's just all becoming so real."

Liz and Delia soon lost themselves in conversation, Delia filling Liz in on her parents return to Wales and their planned trip back to London within the fortnight. They had barely finished their tea when the front door could be heard and the familiar beat of Patsy's nursing standard shoes pattered their way through the house. Delia's face became awash with joy at the sound, and Liz watched the young woman's facial expressions closely.

Patsy appeared walking down the stair with a bundle in her arms. Delia jumped to her feet and scampered across to Patsy. "Welcome home. Did she wake? I didn't hear her." Delia's eyes flicked in the direction of the stairs, and the panic was clear in her voice.

Patsy leant forward and softly kissed the panicking woman. "No. I just couldn't resist a cuddle. She's still fast to it. I assume you three have had a busy day?"

"Well an easy day compared to yours I'm sure. Sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?"

\---

That evening found Patsy sitting on the sofa, her knees up and Lily supported against her thighs. Delia joined her two girls, positioning herself in turn behind Patsy and joined in pulling faces and cooing at the baby. Delia rested her chip on Patsy's shoulder, turning her head occasionally to kiss to soft and tempting elegant neck that was tempting before her. "Everyone we met today adored Lily," Delia said in a small voice, ensuring the calm of the room continued.

"Naturally," Patsy said turning her head to capture Delia in a kiss. Delia caught Patsy retreating lips tempting her back, grounding herself in the taste of her lover.

"At least we have some years before we have to explain that!" Patsy said her attention back to Lily.

"There is something Liz thinks we should talk about." Patsy looked to Delia, questioning with her eyes, concerned at the rare apprehension she should see looking back. "It appears I'm not very collected when people mention me being Lily's mother."

Patsy nodded slowly, her eyebrows knitted in thought. Delia continued "Liz thinks we should take control of our story and feed it to the gossips? Get the local shops and cafes on track from the start".

"I agree. We will go on my next day off. We will parade around and tell the sad story of how Lilys two aunts have taken on joint custody of their niece. If we bring in reinforcements in the way of Liz, and Trixie, we can get the gossips to work in our favour."

"Speaking of Trixie did you ask her to supper tomorrow?"

Patsy blushed at this "Yes, but I may have got carried away! Dr Turner, Sheleigh, Tim, Angela, Barbara, and Phyllis are coming too."

Delia's eyes went wide "carried away?"

"I'm so sorry, but I'm on an early shift tomorrow so I will be home to help and Trixie is going to spend the night so…"

"You do know I have never cooked for more than two people, don't you? And now we have half of Poplar coming for dinner? What will I cook? Oh god…"

"Delia, please. We could buy Fish and Chips, and everyone would be happy. This evening dinner was lovely. Your efforts can't be worse than chummy."

"Patience Mount, I will not rise to that. Fortunately, I've cut out a couple of recipes from Woman's Own that I wanted to try. I suppose cooking for nine can't be too hard."

"and with the practice, you'll be an expert when Blod and Hill come at the weekend."

"Don't think just because this is only our second night, I won't make you sleep in the guest bedroom."

Patsy smiled at Delia until it became clear the threat was in no way empty.

"I sorry Deels. I'll help. I'm sure we can do something. We may not have enough china."

"Pats! We won't have enough cutlery either. What will they all think?"

"I will phone Liz. I'm sure she will coordinate the necessities. She's not going to Boreton until the weekend I think."

"We should go to bed. It looks like we will both have a long and hectic day tomorrow."

Delia was changed into her night dress and in bed first, Patsy still settling Lily in the nursery. Delia looked at her Woman's Own recipe and started doing a shopping list, multiplying the quantities and jotting down various items she knew they would need.

Patsy wandered into the bedroom, triumphant that Lily was sleeping soundly. Crawling into bed, she rolled to her side and looked at her lover who continued studiously making lists. Patsy wriggled closer to Delia, her hand venturing below the duvet to stroke the inviting soft thigh of her Welsh love. Running gently up and down Delia's thigh suggestively, Patsy's big eyes looked up through long lashes. Delia placed her notepad and pencil down on her lap, willing herself to keep collected as her hand immediately joined Patsy's, stopping the long and intent fingers in their tracks. "Go to sleep Nurse Mount. I have lists to make, and then I will be getting an early night."

"But Deels…"

"No buts Pats. You've invited Dr Turner! I suggest you go to sleep."

\---

Delia looked around the kitchen. Patsy had kept to her end of the bargain and laid the table with cutlery from the townhouse and opened a bottle of Claret. She looked toward the oven where the Beef Bourginone was simmering in a casserole. Delia tasted it tentatively before Patsy came home and it was better than she could have hoped. The Potatoes were peeled, and were coming up to the boil. The pan was even ready to cook the frozen peas. She had cheated and brought a tiramisu from the Italian café she had visited with Liz but she was happy nobody would mind. Patsy had surprised her with the first bunch of daffodils of the year, and she had placed them in a contemporary vase on the table. A jug of water with a splash of Orange Barley was also on the table. They were ready. Just as Delia climbed the stairs to find Patsy and Lily the soft tap at the door signalled their guests had arrived.

Opening the door, the Turners were the first to arrive although Delia could see the familiar Morris of Nurse Crane pulling up in the courtyard. "Do come in Dr Turner. Mrs Turner. Tim."

"Nurse Busby call me Patrick."

"and please call me Shelagh. Mrs Turner makes me feel quite old."

"You're not 'that' old mum."

"That's enough out of you Timothy," Shelagh said with a good-humoured twinkle in her eye.

"Please call me Delia. Oh and here are Trixie, Babs and Phylis. Come in, come in. I will just go and find Patsy and Lily. Please do go on through to the sitting room and make yourselves comfortable."

As the party moved through to the sitting room, taking in as much of the house's decor as they could from the hallway. Delia started up the stairs certain to find Patsy and Lily in the nursery when she heard the silence of their guests and a giggle from Trixie.

"Delia, I think you may need to rouse Nurse Mount" came a soft Scottish burr.

Delia resembled a deer caught in the headlights of a motorcar as she dashed back down and into the sitting room. There she found a slumbering Patsy, fast asleep and stretched out on the sofa with baby Lily contentedly napping on her aunt's chest, wrapped in loving arms. The vision was enough to halt Delia in her tracks. She looked at their friends who all seemed charmed in the sight of formidable Nurse Mount looking so at peace.

Delia crouched next to her sofa and gently shook Patsy awake. "Pats?"

Patsy woke with a smile, her eyes still closed. Her hand came to her lovers face instinctively. "Sorry, darling I just had a light nap." Delia's eyes were wide at the turn of events until Trixie's laugh, much louder than her previous giggle, drew the attention of the young couple.

"Nap. You were fast to it Pats. I've shared a room with you long enough to be sure you could have slept through the Blitz!"

Patsy looked mortified, but Dr Turner came to her aid. "Working and looking after a beautiful baby girl takes its toll. Get your sleep whenever you can Patsy."

"And Patrick knows. He added an afternoon nap to his daily routine when Angela came to us, and I'm not entirely sure he's ever going to give it up."

Trixie and Shelagh were the first to volunteer to hold Lily leaving Patsy, with the assistance of Patrick and Timothy to fix everyone a drink. Delia recruited Phylis to help with finishing the dinner while Barbara entertained Angela.

Just as at the Nonnatus table Delia and Patsy sat next to each other, their hands occasionally finding each other under the table. The group chatted happily and congratulated the pair on their home. Shelagh was surprisingly taken by the modern designs and brought Patrick's attention to the various features. Trixie and Barbara didn't loose interest in Lily or Angela, and Phylis looked on the entire group like a proud matriarch, a lioness watching over her pride.

As the meal drew to a close, Patrick stood up and cleared his throat. "If I can just say a few words."

"Oh do sit down Patrick…" Shelagh said with a smile, shaking her head at her husband's tipsy manner.

"I just want to say thank you to Delia and Patsy. You have a beautiful home here, and you have a very happy and healthy little girl. I am proud to call you both friends and I hope we can all share a repeat of this evening many times again in the future. Good Food, good company and a large enough table!"

"Hear hear" came the reply from Phylis "but I think we should be making tracks. Mrs Turner, will you be following me in your motorcar?"

"Yes, thank you, Phylis."

Trixie and Delia took Lily to the nursery while Patsy showed their guests out with the promise that Delia would bring Lily to Nonnatus soon. When the house was quiet once more Delia and Trixie appeared in the sitting room where Patsy had made cocoa and tuned the wireless to Radio Luxemburg.

They continued their evening chatting and taking it in turns to check on Lily. It was past midnight when Delia couldn't fight the yawns from escaping, and the trio decided to call it a night. "Have you got sheets for the sofa sweetie? It looks rather comfortable."

"Actually Trix we have had a guest room completed for you. The schedule changed so we could push on. Would you like to see?"

Trixie's eyes were wide and innocent like a small child told they had Christmas gifts still to unwrap. The bottle blond followed her friends up two flights of stairs to where Patsy opened a freshly painted door. A stylish bedroom as revealed with Parisienne style furnishings, pure while soft linens and dark blue walls. A dressing table had been set out, and a small vase hosted a bunch of lilac scented flowers. A photograph of Patsy and Delia with Trixie at the barn dance was framed on the dressing table. Trixie looked at her friends with tears trickling at her eyes.

"Don't say anything Trix, but you're more than welcome here anytime you would like. This room is for your use." Delia took Patsy by the hand and lead her away with words of breakfast and Lily wanting aunty Trixie time.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of fluff I'm afraid before we get a bit more storyline progress:-)   
> A quick question... A couple of people have asked me to write a slightly more risque bedroom scene. Chapter 7 which contained sexual content didn't get any feedback here or on FF.net - should it be just left to one's imagination?

“Delia? I’m upstairs changing madams napkin.” Patsy couldn’t make out Delia's response but could hear the excitement in her voice. “I can’t hear you, sweetheart. We’re nearly done.”

  
By the time Patsy had cleaned up the changing table and made her way down the stairs with Lily in her arms, Delia was pulling on her coat. “I’ll put Lily in her pram, while you put your coat on. I told Blod we would meet her at Café Rosa. I don’t want to be late.”

  
“We won’t be late Deels. Its only around the corner.”Patsy bent down to lace up her favourite Oxfords. “And Blod said she was at the mercy of the buses.”

“I’m just excited. Do you think Blod will like the house? Did you remember to close the bedroom door?”

“Why?”

“Blod will want a guided tour, and we will have to show her the nursery.”

Patsy looked blankly at Delia, curious as to where the broader Welsh accent had appeared from.

“Open the door Pats and take the front of the pram.”

Patsy scurried to the door and took position ready to lift the pram down the front steps. With a tight grip on the heavy axle of the carriage, Patsy and Delia safely delivered Lily’s pram onto the uneven cobbles. “Deels. Your aunt Blod, do you think she has certain similarities to us?”

“Well, of course, she and I have some similarities, she’s my aunt after all. I look very much like she did and tad always says we have a similar sense of humour. But why would she have similarities with you?”

“Well not with me exactly. You’ve known Hilda a long time?”

Delia started pushing Lily over the cobbles, Patsy resting one hand on the handle also. “Well of course. I introduced them. I was so enamoured by Hill when I first met her. She was like a heroin from an adventure novel arriving in the village. Her clothes were nothing as I had ever seen a lady wear. She conducted her experiments and carried little test tubes and flasks in a wooden box. When she walked across the fields, her coat flowed behind her. She would talk to me, and she allowed me to help her collect samples.”

“It sounds like you had quite the infatuation with Hill.”

Delia laughed at Patsy's expression. “I think she represented a lot of things I hadn’t realised were possible. She expanded my view of the world.”

“I can imagine her like it. So then Blod met her through you?”

“Yes… we’ll cross the road here… Mam had sent Blod to find me. I can’t remember why but you know mam! They were quiet with each other to start with, but Blod hung around and watched us collect grasses and plants. Eventually, Blod and Hill hit it off like a house on fire. I think Blod was just as enamoured as me with the world outside Wales. I heard them talking quite often when they thought I was looking for moss.”

Patsy looked at Delia with raised eyebrows.

“I remember hearing Hill telling Blod she could live as she was, be what she wanted, away from the small town gossips. I was hurt that she was trying to persuade Blod to leave, but when I realised Blod wanted to start her own shop, it made sense.”

Patsy nodded slowly. “So Blod needed to open her own shop to be herself?”

“Yes. Looks like we’re here before Blod. Let's go in there is a bit of a nip in the air.” Delia scooped Lily out of her pram and into her arms while Patsy tucked the baby carriage neatly near the door and applied the break.

A cheerful Italian voice greeted the family. “Ciao ciao. Welcome, let me see la bella bambina. Beautiful. Now take a seat. Isabella will want to see la bambino.”

Delia and Patsy thanked the exuberant host and gravitated towards a large table in the window with a pleasant view out over the busy street. They had barely settled into their seats when a short, elderly lady with the thick black hair, perfectly set in a wave, bustled over.

“Oh, il bel bambino e in un altro bel vestito.” The older lady fussed over Lily, the hurry of language breaking the English and harmonic Italian gliding through. “May I hold her?”

Patsy looked to Delia, shocked at the extrovert display having never been in this café before. For Delia and Lily, however, this was their third visit, and they were beginning to feel quite at home. Delia smiled at the older lady “I’m sure Lily wold love that”.

The exchange drew some curious glances from what Patsy presumed were regulars to the cafe but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she knew she once would have.

Rocking a contented Lily in her arms, Isabella looked between Patsy and Delia. “So who is mamma?”

Patsy could understand the confusion. Lily’s hair had grown quite a bit, and although not long was becoming thick black and a little wild. It in no way resembled her own blonde or current red hair, but it was the hair you could imagine belonging to a young Busby. Lily’s skin was also darker than her own. Delia however often commented on how much Lily's blue eyes and smile reminded her of Patsy.  
Delia had also been running this scenario through in her mind since she side stepped similar enquiries two days earlier. Yet despite her mental preparation she still faltered in response to the kindly Italian lady. Patsy, however, seemed to return to the confident ‘lady’ who had taken her on the shopping trip while staying at Boreton.

“Lily is our niece. Sadly her mother passed away following a motorcar accident, and her father is no longer with us. We have taken on joint custody, with the help of our families, to raise her.”  
Isabella let out a soft cry “Oh Lord. To take the mamma e papà away from one so young. You are good girls doing this for your niece.”

Patsy didn’t want to linger on the details. “We have moved into a house around the corner, so we are close to my work at Nonnatus House where I’m a midwife and close to our London-based family. Delia has been reliving the eclair she ate here with such adoration I simply couldn’t wait to try your wonderful cakes for myself.”

“And what are your names?”

“I’m Patsy, and this is Delia. Lily, I think you are already acquainted with.”

“Patsy and Delia. I am Isabella Piccoli. Do you like coffee? I’m sure with a baby you will need coffee. I will make you coffee.” Isabella reluctantly handed Lily back to Delia and hurried away.

Patsy placed her little finger into Lily's grip and looked about. “That went surprisingly well. And coffee to boot. I think I shall rather like this place.”

Patsy and Delia smiled in relief just as the bell above the café door rang. Delia looked up to see her aunt walk in and make a beeline straight for them. Blod wore a broad smile and a navy and floral print shirtwaist dress as she pulled up a chair, her gaze fixed on Delia holding Lily. “Hello Aunty Blod, I’d like you to meet Lily Mai Mount.”

Patsy looked at the emotion playing over the older woman's face but wanted to downplay the magnitude of the meeting in this public place. “Lily, this is your Great Aunt Blod!” The emphasis on Great Aunt was not missed by Blod who looked at Patsy in horror.

“That makes me sound so old! I think Aunt Blod will do thank you very much. She’s so beautiful.”

Delia shifted her grip on the baby. “Would you like to hold her?”

“I’ve not held a baby since… well, how old are you cariad?”

“I’m sure you’ve not forgotten how. Here…”Delia handed Lily over and despite some soft whimpers of protest Lily soon settled in Blods arms, seemingly fascinated by the fabric of her dress.

Isabella came over very cautiously with the small cups of coffee. “Mrs Piccoli, this is my aunt, Blod. Could we trouble you for another cup of…”

“Coffee please.” Blod supplied still engrossed with Lily.

“Coffee and three eclairs?” Isabella beamed and departed once more quickly giving instructions to the young waitresses serving the other customers.

Blod eventually pulled her attention away from Lily and looked at her niece. “So how is it setting up a new home and entering parenthood?”

Patsy could see the twinkle in Blods eye with her wording, but Delia was oblivious and happily answering as to the challenges of getting the house renovated in a short time and the realities of looking after a baby. “Of course Lily is an exceptionally contented child. She is very settled and barely fusses. We’re very luck. It could have been a very different story.”

Patsy agreed with Delia “She’s at the stage now where she is really beginning to recognise us and her little face lights up whenever she sees Deels.”

Delia blushed and unconsciously took Patsy's hand while looking at the elegant redhead with adoration. Patsy masked the action moving their joined hands under the table, away from any unintentional spectators. “She settles quickest in your arms though Pats.”

Delia talked to her aunt about the renovation and her parent's involvement. The mention of Mrs Busby caused a few quiet yet less than subtle comments from Patsy, including “Welsh Dragon’s can be a marvellous motivator but I fear many jobs will have to be redone – there wasn’t a steady hand in the house some days!”

Delia gave her usual disapproving look but ignored the mutterings. Blod, however, found the candid commentary from Patsy hilarious. “Hill would love that. By the way, I gave her your address, and she will meet us there around five, although she's at Kew today so she may be a little later…. She loses all track of time when she's in the glasshouses.”

Delia made small talk about Hilda’s work and how fascinating she had always found it. She then looked at Baldwin concerned. “Will Hilda be happy to drop you home this evening? I never thought about you coming on the bus. Or Pats can drop you back can’t you Pats?”

Patsy was mid sip and paused with the cup to her mouth, Delia’s clueless chatter astounding under the circumstances. She could also see Blod falter. Patsy safely returned her cup to its saucer before speaking. “I’m sure Hill will ensure they both return home safely.”

“Well if she won't mind. I’ll go and settle the bill. It would do Lily some good to be in the fresh air for a bit. There is a little park I would like to visit before we head back to the house.” With that Delia stood and walked over to the small counter, purse in hand.

Patsy turned to Blod and decided she was more than confident in her assumptions, so she spoke softly. “She really has no idea?” was all she said to which Blod just shook her head sadly. “Delia is usually so observant of people it's strange, and she's certainly not naive to the concept!"

“Well Anwen always timed their visits for when Hil would be away, and I suppose since Delia started nursing we’ve not had an awful lot of time together. Anwen always thought I would be a bad influence if I spent too much time with Delia or if I ‘exposed her’ my deviant ways as she sees it.” The hurt weaved through Blods voice, the weight of years of half trues blistering beneath her skin. “When I see you with my niece, and I see the connection you share I feel like she should understand better than anyone?”

Patsy didn’t deny or confirm anything, firmly believing it not her place. However, she cautiously suggested they overcome the elephant in the room as soon as maybe.

\--

Delia had recruited her aunt into helping prepare their supper, even if it was a simple affair of cold ham, parsley sauce, peas and potatoes. The pair chatted, but Blog deliberately avoided the subject of relationships, still constructing in her own mind the most delicate approach. Hill had arrived at the house a little after five bringing with her a girl for Lily. It was a bouncy chair one of her colleagues had talked incessantly about. After setting it up, and attaching the rattle like toys, it was positioned by the large kitchen window, and Lily was placed in. When Lily was settled, and after they had ‘bounced the chair for a good few minutes Patsy had led Hill into the wild garden, requesting her to advise as to what should be kept and what was, considered by most, to be weeds. Delia and Blod both occasionally lost their focus, their stare’s drifting to the outdoors.

Dinner itself was full of conversation. Each person getting to know each other, either as a new acquaintance or renewing an eroded bond. They talked about work, about Nonnatus, The London, The Drapers shop and Hills new position at Kew. They spoke of the Anwen and Rhys and Delia’s childhood years in Wales. The discussed the house, and the gushed about Lily.

When Patsy returned to the kitchen with Lily freshly changed but tired and restless. Like a well-oiled machine, Delia warmed a bottle of formula milk while Patsy cradled the infant. Patsy suggested they gave the ‘grand tour.' while Lily had her bottle, then her new aunts could but her down in the nursery. It was something Liz had found, early on in caring for Lily, that the little girl liked to be walked around while feeding. Delia led the way through the house, proudly showing the snug and lounge to her aunt and Hill. When they walked up to the bedrooms, the nursery drew the obligatory ooh’s and aahs. Blod mentioned some Giraffe printed fabric she had in the shop and promised the roll to make curtains and a canopy for the cot. Lily was fast asleep when she was placed in the cot, and the four edged out of the room, cursing the occasional noisy floorboard as they went. Delia was ready to return to the lounge when Blod stopped her retreat and asked to see the rest of the house. A little pink-cheeked Delia led the party up to the two, very obviously disused, guest rooms.

On their way back down through the house, Delia couldn’t avoid the master bedroom any longer. She felt jittery as she opened the door and stood to the side for Hill and Blod to enter. It was then that Patsy realised that the delivery fo the bed, and the Busby’s presence at the time, had impacted deeply on Delia. Blod also picked upon her nieces crushing discomfort. It was then that blod wordlessly crossed the room and embraced her beloved niece. As she pulled back, she looked at the worried eyes. “You have a beautiful home, a beautiful child and a beautiful partner. I’m so proud of you cariad.” As Delia stood wide-eyed Blod walked back to Hill, took the taller woman by the hand before reaching up on tip ties and kissing her tenderly. “Now, I think we have time for a cup of tea before we make a move home don’t you Hill?”

“Absolutely. And I didn’t have time to go to the shops, so there is no milk at our house.”

__

 

Patsy carried a tea tray into the lounge. Delia had checked on Lily and taken a few moments to collect herself before following Patsy into and rejoining their guests. Blod and Hill were sat on the sofa, Hill with a protective arm around her lover's shoulder. Patsy placed the tray on the coffee table and sat back on one of the armchairs. Delia followed at sat, on the rugged floor at Patsy’s feet, lightly resting against the long legs she so loved. The room was quiet from their arrival before Delia burst out laughing. “Poor mam!”

\--

It was an hour later when the tea had been drank, and the circumstance of Patsy and Delia's meeting and fledgeling relationship shared, that Hill suggested they make their way home. Delia was brimming with questions for her aunt but although the age gap was not large, and despite her aunt being kind and open-minded she still couldn’t get past the fact that she was her mother's sister. She couldn’t be cheeky and ask. Yet there was so much she wanted to know. How wanted to know about their courtship, about their life when she first moved to London and everything since. She wanted to rebuild the bond that she had shared with her aunt as a child. “I hope you can come again soon? I would, well we would appreciate your involvement in Lily's life.”

Before Blod could answer Patsy looped her arm around Delia’s waist and chuckled with mischief “, and Deels is bursting with questions for you and Hill.”

Delia whipped her head up to look at Patsy. “Please Delia, I can read you like a book.”

Blod and Hill both found the humour in the young couple's interactions and promised they would visit again. Delia agreed to visit the shop to pick up the fabric and to make a date for another dinner, and with that, hand in hand, Hill and Blod strolled away to their motorcar.”

Delia waved from the doorstep before locking the door. She turned to Patsy and on tip toes bit on the inviting bottom lip of her girl. She looked into patsy’s sea blue eyes once again, her expression was intense. Delia released Patsy's lip, and for a moment it looked like the tall redhead was going to speak, but Delia yanked Patsy down and drew her in for a hungry kiss. She responded immediately. Her mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips as softer as ever before. She tasted tentatively with her tongue, and Patsy opened her mouth with a low moan.

Before Patsy knew what was happening, Delia pulled away a little. When Patsy slowly opened her eyes the expression on Delia’s face, the way she was biting her own lip, and the glance through lidded eyes left doubt about what the small welsh woman had in mind. Delia took Patsy by her hand and led her past the lounge, flicking off the light as she passed, and up the stairs.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It appears that opinion is divided on mature content, so I have hopefully written a brief update acceptable to all. I gave the matter some thought myself regarding the BBCs somewhat frustrating approach but realised maybe that is the excellent Heidi Thomas's point - that our frustration as viewers mirrors the frustration experienced by Patsy and Delia, in turn, making their story so much more compelling. Either way, I hope this chapter is up to snuff.

Delia, still clutching Patsy’s hand, opened the door fully to the nursery and peeked in to check on the slumbering baby. When she was sure Lily was quite happy, she turned back to Patsy, almost pushing the taller woman back out of the room. She pulled the door so it was just ajar enough that they could hear any of Lily’s cries for attention, and backed her way into the adjacent room pulling a compliant Patsy with her. “So we have a rather large bed!” Delia purred, her accent stronger than usual and even more rhythmic.

“We do” was all Patsy replied, her eyes as fiery as her hair.

“And you’re not working tomorrow…”

“I’m not.” Patsy was lit with adoration, her pulse beating strong yet fluttering as she watched a predatory Delia stalk her just as a Red Kite effortlessly circles it pray from the heavens.

Delia reached up to kiss Patsy, it was a gentle kiss full of love but as their lips moved the intent grew, and hands started to reconnoitre, over and under their clothes, desperate for any feel of skin, desperate for each other. Patsy wasted no time working the buttons open on Delia’s dress, pulling the material until it fell away effortlessly and puddled on the floor. She set about replacing the dress with itinerant kisses. Before Delia could erase the awe-inspiring clouds from her mind, she had been stripped down to her simple white bra, panties, suspender belt and stockings. It was a contradicting image, angelic yet sensual, and that left Patsy worshipping with her fingers.

Dropping to her knees like a nun in the chapel, Patsy delicately unclipped the stockings and rolled them each down slowly, purposefully, revealing the most beautiful legs. Here too she couldn’t help herself, she trailed kisses aver the supple skin lost in the process and in the reverence of adoring. Delia ran her hands through Patsy’s hair, grateful the lacquer had been overlooked in Patsy’s morning routine. She pulled Patsy into her, the midwife’s hands, in turn, journeying up to gain purchase on her bottom.

A well-positioned kiss to Delia’s panties caused eyes to lock, and the exchange burned. Delia was frantic now to feel Patsy's body against her own naked state. She pulled Patsy up from the floor, without caution and began pulling, kissing, discarding garments and feeling. It was a frantic tussle of uncooperative clothing, snagging cuffs and colliding hands until they both were left panting, naked and desperate.

Struggling to regain control of their breathing and senses Delia let out a breathless chortle. “It was definitely sensible not to have allowed ourselves to get carried away at Nonnatus.” Patsy didn’t respond, not trusting her voice as tried to steady herself.

Delia captivated by the palpable energy they both radiated led Patsy once more by the hand to the large bed and without releasing her grip knelt on the comfortable mattress. The body before her wasn’t flawless, in the light of the bedroom the silvery scars of war etched into flesh and covered much more of Patsy that Delia had noticed in the darkness of their Boreton bedroom. She wasn’t flawless, but she was perfect. She ran her thumbs over the lines, each varying in shape and thickness, their pattern random, each apparently inflicted by different weapons. Delia tried not to focus too much on the marks, knowing they caused Patsy to doubt her own unquestionable beauty. Delia was torn, she wanted to know Patsy to her very depths, but when faced with the reality of her past Delia wasn’t sure she would be able to listen to the details of the suffering Patsy had endured.

It was as if Patsy could follow Delia’s intense internal monologue. Ceasing Delia’s hands Patsy pulled them to rest on her own hips, and in turn ran her own hands down the sides of Delia’s defined ribs. She repeated her action with the back of her hand, savouring the subtle difference in feelings, and the sensation of her neat nurse's nails against the skin. The trajectory of her movements changed to include the sides of Delia’s breasts, gaining ground like an advancing army, before her thumbs topped stiff peaks, drawing forth a staggered breath signifying victory.

They both were lost in the novel sensations as their mutual exploration continued languorous and comprehensive, like a nineteenth-century explorer venturing in new seas. They moved, each wrapping themselves around each others body, just as ivy growing around all that’s precious.

Patsy couldn't recall how they had made it to their current positions, where she, with her long frame and gangling legs had Delia pinned beneath her. Delia was prone on her back and smiling up, biting her lip and tempting Patsy back to her passionate kisses. Patsy felt the strange pangs of wanting to possess, to engulf and consume. Her kisses trailed from soft lips to the angle of Delia’s jaw, down the straining neck where Patsy could still smell the scent that Delia loyally wore each day, and over the jutting bony clavicle. Her whole face was engulfed with sensation, the tip of her nose sensitive, her chin advancing and her lips tasting. As Patsy took Delia’s left nipple into her mouth, Delia could feel electricity connecting through her body in a way she would later struggle to define even to herself. The combination of lips, tongue and teeth snowballed the emotion and phenomena, and Delia knew her body was already out of control and functioning in pure desire. 

\---

They had both lost all sense of time as they lay, tangled and glowing trying to regain their composer and breath. Patsy spoke first “Well that was…”

“Yes.”

“and the bed seems to have been a suitable purchase.”

“Yes.”

The joviality of Patsys tone shifted to a more serious and contemplatory. “After All this time we get to experience this, and take our time, and I just can not believe we’re here and safe.”

“And I never knew you were so creative Pats. I think there is quite a scandalous side to you that you've been hiding.” Patsy’s blush could be seen brightening despite her already sweat covered features and dishevelled state. “Promise me you won’t keep that under wraps anymore, I would never have thought to…”

“Delia! You're sure though that you didn’t mind?”

“Yes Pats, I’m more than sure. Now if you could just show me that last thing you did once more I would like to try that on you!”

\---

In the soft morning light, Delia could make out the time on the small travel clock that Patsy kept next to her side of the bed. It was just before seven o’clock but felt as though it should be much earlier. The whimpering cries from Lily grew more demanding, and Delia moved to get out of bed to placate the little girl. The action, however, drew an aching yet persistent pain as the muscles and fibres of her body protested more than they ever had, even after a day cycling for miles when she had shadowed the Nonnatus midwives. The pain was enough to keep her in place. Patsy, however, leant over and Kissed the back of Delia’s neck “I’ll go to her”. With that Patsy was already moving to retrieve her dressing gown. She was out of the room before Delia could assess exactly what she was feeling.

Delia stretched, delighted by the feeling of the sheets against her naked skin, and now she was strangely enjoying the gripes of her muscles. She extended her stiff arms and legs and sighed. Hearing Patsy softly singing to Lily, which was her habit when she was changing her napkin, Delia finally, yet slowly made her way out of bed, slipped on a nightgown and crept to the bathroom as to not interrupt Patsy’s song.

\---

It became a very casual morning in the Busby Mount house with Patsy and Delia both still in their nightwear, albeit with dressing gowns for some dignity, as they relaxed in the kitchen. Lily, however, was dressed and back in her bouncy chair, fed and content. Just as Patsy sat down next to Delia with a plate of inviting bacon sandwiches the coiled bell shook and rang loud signalling they had visitors. Delia’s eyes were wide, her own parents never allowed her downstairs unless dressed and presentable and here she was now in her own house completely unprepared. Patsy suggested they ignore whoever had the gall to call so early.

“It’s nearly half past eight Pats. It’s probably the postman.” The bell rang again. Patsy sipped her tea, but Delia was looking increasingly anxious. “Pats? It might be important?”

“Lord help me when Lily’s old enough to boss me about too.” Delia did look abashed as Patsy skipped up the stairs but happy reached for one of the bacon sandwiches and began her battle with the stubborn tomato ketchup bottle. She took a victorious bite when she heard Patsy’s bare feet padding down the stairs. “How are you this energetic cariad? I can barely move after last night!”

Patsy stood at the bottom of the stairs wide-eyed. “Oh, Pats. Don’t pretend to be bashful. The way you hand…”

“Delia! Pop the kettle on will you darling? Your parents are just depositing their luggage in the hall, and they are ready for a cup of tea of their early drive from Pembrook!”

Delia nearly choked on her bacon sandwich as she cheeks burned red hot. “Oh god! Mam and tad?” she whispered. Patsy nodded in response and robotically picked up Lily for a feeling of refuge. Before they could say any more, Mr and Mrs Busby walked down the stairs into the basement kitchen. Were they both blushing? Delia couldn’t bare the thought that they heard and understood the gist of her comments. She went into ‘adoring daughter’ and host overdrive welcoming her parents, offering them tea and breakfast and asking after their drive. “We didn’t expect you until next week?” She eventually said as she carried a fresh pot of tea to the table.

“Your mam was missing Lily. She couldn’t stand to be away from her any longer.” The smile that Rhys shared with his daughter was genuine, but his comment drew a huff from Anwen.

“Your tad wanted to come back sooner, and I’m sure you need some guidance with running the house and looking after Lily. I mean look at you both. You're not even dressed! We could have been anyone at the door. What would the neighbours think?”

Despite the bite to her voice and words, Patsy could clearly see the truth was in Rhys’s statement.

Anwen continued before anyone else in the room had a chance. “You should both go and put some clothing on, make yourselves decent! What example are you setting for Lily? No dignity! Go on with you both. Give the baby to me. Rhys… pour the tea and watch the bacon in that pan. You know crispy bacon is no good for my teeth.”

Neither Patsy nor Delia dared define the older women so Lily was handed into her grandmother’s arms and they departed to dress for the day.


End file.
